


elevate;

by maidenstar



Series: Elevate [1]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff, SO MUCH FLUFF, more student!waverly and trainee!nicole bc i'm obsessed, will i ever stop writing dumb fluff fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-08-20 14:37:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 42,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16557629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maidenstar/pseuds/maidenstar
Summary: "She was acutely aware that it was unwise to let something that could once have been deemedsummer romanceblossom intofull-blown crushinstead."There is surely no better way for Waverly Earp to celebrate becoming a college graduate than to accept her sister’s offer to join her on her travels for the summer. Waverly studied Classical History, why shouldn’t she live and breathe it in Greece for a while? But while Waverly gears up for time abroad to explore the past, something much more exciting is brewing in the present when she meets a red-haired traveller in the hostel dining room…[Join us for a fun-filled, big ol’ Greek vacation in which the Earp sisters reconnect after 10 years, Wynonna and Nicole have been hostel buddies for long enough to pretend to hate each otherconstantly, and Waves and Nicole fall in love amongst the ruins of Ancient Greece…]





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I have unexpectedly appeared on a Thursday!! 
> 
> Perhaps as a reactionary move against writing my San Junipero AU, my brain decided at the same time as working on that one, that it was also time to write this fluffy, completely gratuitous AU that I’ve been batting around since about April.
> 
> I have this awful? wonderful? habit of being in any given situation and being like...what would wayhaught be like here…
> 
> And in April I stayed in a hostel. That’s literally it, that’s the whole reason I started thinking about this. (Disclaimer: I did not meet a Nicole Haught, although I did have a wonderful time with my best friend if you’re wondering). 
> 
> Second disclaimer: there is literally nothing more going on in this fic than cavity-inducing fluff which, as you know if you’ve read my first two AUs, is my fave thing to write. I’ll be updating this one on Thursdays, and my San Junipero AU will still go up on Tuesdays. (And with what’s coming up on that one, I think I need to redeem myself two days later with this one, welp). 
> 
> Third disclaimer: the rating for this may go to M for a bit that’s set to go in the middle, but we just don’t know yet.
> 
> That’s all for now in this stupidly long A/N! See you on the other end!!

Long haul, as it turns out, is the  _ worst _ .

Waverly had waited her whole life to travel but for her first ever trip out of Alberta, she should have perhaps started smaller than a 14-hour transatlantic journey with a single stop-over.

The jetlag hits like her a sledgehammer as she fumbles her way through ATH airport and towards her ultimate destination of the arrivals hall.

Passport control is surprisingly not as terrible as the stereotypes had lead her to believe, and she only has a carry-on so can avoid the baggage lines entirely.

In honesty, she is still surprised that she managed to stuff the backpack into the overhead locker. Getting it out, however, had been close to impossible after it was wedged in so tightly.

Still. She had  _ made it _ .

She was in a whole other country for goodness sake. Another continent, even.

All that time spent as _just Waverly Earp_ _from Purgatory_ and she had finally made this dream a reality.

Well, Wynonna had made it a reality - but that was a whole other story. (Waverly still did not know where her sister had found the funds for this trip, and a part of her suspects it is better the devil that she stays ignorant).

Speaking of, Wynonna had promised on pain of death to meet her at the arrivals hall on time.

It seems that she had succeeded (and had, in fact, been ahead of schedule) because Waverly spots her sister as soon as she steps through a frosted automatic door. Wynonna must be the only person still wearing tight black jeans in the middle of a Greek summer, and to Waverly’s immense horror she is holding up a handmade paper sign, doing her best tongue-in-cheek impression of a professional driver.

It is just two white A4 sheets taped roughly together and covered in marker pen, and so is not ostentatious enough as to be too embarrassing, even if it does read:

**_WAVERLY EARP, FAMILY GENIUS_ **

in very,  _ very _ bold letters.

Waverly wants to roll her eyes or sigh, any show of withering (but entirely fake) disdain. But it has been years since she has seen more of Wynonna than a blurry image on a phone screen, and she cannot hold herself back from breaking into a contained little dash and throwing her arms around her sister.

“There's the little golden child,” Wynonna cries delightedly as they crash together, “there’s my tiny mastermind.”

Waverly laughs, still hanging onto Wynonna tightly.

“It's a masters degree, Wyn - not the Nobel Prize.”

“It’s more than anyone else in the family has managed. Step-by-step babygirl,” Wynonna replies, speaking gently into Waverly's ear as the tight hug extends longer. “First your degree, next the world.”

“I’ll just start with just Greece,” Waverly says happily, only just beginning to loosen her grip on her sister.

Wynonna’s voice softens when she speaks again. “Good, because I’m glad you came.”

“Well, I've missed you.”

“Understandable when your big sister's as cool as I am.”

Waverly is again tempted to roll her eyes, but her face is still probably the picture of deep affection and would likely render the gesture pointless.

“Plus, free holiday. That was the main deciding factor really.”

“Ugh,  _ liar liar _ .”

Waverly finally pulls away. “Besides, since when did you  _ hug _ ? Travelling has changed you.”

“There's no one around who knows me,” Wynonna says with a disdainful sniff. “I checked I wouldn't damage my hard-earned badass reputation. Otherwise it would have been a big no-no.”

“You sure do know how to make people feel good.”

“It's a gift kiddo. It's a gift.”

 

 

 

 

 

Athens turns out to be everything Waverly imagined and more, at least at first glance.

Wynonna directs them out of the airport terminal and into the bright spotlight of the late-afternoon sun. Jetlagged and disorientated in that way of travelling, everything seems mildly distorted. Waverly has no real sense of the time, even if she had adjusted her watch during her mercifully brief layover in London. It surprises her to see the day at its close, as much as the strength of the July sun catches her unawares.

_ Perfect time to visit _ , she concludes wryly as she already feels the prickle of heat against her skin. Sure, summers in Purgatory could get hot but they were nothing compared to the other extreme of the winter cold. Waverly was accustomed to double or even triple layers, even when simply sitting around the house or serving beers at Shorty’s. She felt the cold and seldom suffered the heat, but she was already suspecting that a high Mediterranean summer would be pushing even her tolerance a little far.

“So I figure you must be tired,” Wynonna says, flagging down a fortuitously-timed bus.

“Beyond beat,” Waverly agrees, letting Wynonna pay for two tickets and immediately snagging the seats at the back. They had always loved occupying the backseat of the bus as kids, and this kind of felt like the right setting to re-live old traditions. 

They are trying to reconnect, after all.

Wynonna seems to understand as she sits down heavily and ungracefully, chuckling as she watches Waverly tuck one foot under the opposite knee.

“Some things never change, huh?” she observes and Waverly contents herself with a little bump of their shoulders by way of response.

As the bus pulls away, Wynonna speaks again.

“Anyway, back to what I was saying. As an excellent and caring big sister, I had thought you’d be exhausted.”

“Super intuitive,” Waverly interjects. “Person is probably tired after long-haul flights across multiple timezones. Nice one, sis.”

Wynonna bumps their shoulders again, much harder this time. “I can still send you back home. I left that ticket open-ended for a reason.”

“I don’t believe you would. You missed me too much,” Waverly says, deliberately chirpy and bright as she flashes a cheesy, megawatt smile at Wynonna.

For the first time, Wynonna drops all pretences and simply delivers Waverly a fond smile.

“Yeah babygirl, I did.”

Waverly smiles back, feeling her heart swell.

It had not been easy, growing up without Wynonna.

It had been bad enough losing everyone else, especially mama. But Wynonna leaving had been the real kicker.

Wynonna knew how it felt to replay the revenant attack every night; Wynonna had always looked out for Waverly in a way Willa never had. Wynonna understood her, even though they were different people. Wynonna  _ loved  _ her. And although Waverly would like to say that this fact had never been in question, after Wynonna left Purgatory to go to Europe, an ugly voice in Waverly’s mind had called it into doubt for a long time.

Even Gus thought Wynonna would be back sooner rather than later. Gus, who loved Wynonna with all her heart but was harder on her than either Curtis or Waverly could ever be. Gus, who was tough on Wynonna  _ because _ she loved her so much.

But even though Wynonna checked in every so often, she never came back. It had been more or less a decade, and she had never shown a sign of returning to Purgatory. Waverly got it - the place had never once been kind to Wynonna. But understanding did not make it hurt less, and by God it had hurt to go through her entire youth without her big sister there at her side.

But Wynonna was trying to make up for it now - Waverly could see that a mile off. And she had to admit, it was easier now they are both adults.

Wynonna had been so excited when Waverly got accepted into college, and that enthusiasm had made her an unexpected but masterful cheerleader. Staying in contact got easier the more technology progressed (in truth, WhatsApp and Skype had been the true saviours of their relationship) and for the four years it took Waverly to graduate - top of her class, no less - with a masters degree, she and Wynonna had grown exceptionally close again.

The day of the graduation ceremony, Wynonna had pulled the surprise on her via a video call.

_ “I got you a graduation gift,” Wynonna had said, barely holding back a pleased smile as she called up something else on her phone. “You gotta check your inbox in three...two…one...go!” _

_ Waverly’s phone had buzzed accordingly and her heart had nearly stopped when she saw it; an email forwarded via Wynonna and originating from an airline. Attached, a ticket to Greece, booked in Waverly’s name. _

_ She had not known what to say. It had been a long time since anyone had rendered her so completely speechless. _

_ “Gus and Curtis know,” Wynonna had told her. “They said I could tell you that they’ve already prepared everything for your passport. They’re paying for it as part of their own present.” _

_ A dim memory floats into Waverly’s mind: an unusually cagey Gus asking her to sign a couple of papers ‘for the bank’ weeks and weeks ago. Always one to read the small print, Waverly had tried to question it but Gus had artfully cornered her on her way to work, and she had put enough trust in her aunt not to have her sign up to something sketchy. _

_ Now, however, she realises that she had signed up for something else entirely, although she could not begin to say how they found a passport-acceptable photo without her knowledge. _

_ “Wynonna,” she had managed to say eventually. “This is too much - too much money. You didn’t have to do this.” _

_ “I missed a lot of big milestones kiddo,” Wynonna had replied, sounding a little sad. “Lots to make up for. Go big or go home, yeah? Or go to Greece, in this case.” _

_ “But I never - ” _

_ “I know you never asked me to make up for anything. Just let me do this, okay? Sisters’ reunion for a big ol’ summer vacation. You can’t study all this stuff and never come here - and besides, the ticket’s paid now. Non-refundable. You have to come _ .”

And of course, Waverly had not ever truly wanted to turn it down.

She had been captivated by antiquity for as long as she could remember - but she had never had the funds to even consider visiting Greece or Rome, let alone somewhere even further afield like Egypt or Jordan. She was already applying for PhD funding, and it would be great to say she was taking a such a trip.

What’s more, there is no one she would rather spend her summer with than Wynonna.

Wynonna who had, apparently, thought ahead and planned their first evening together to involve take out Greek food and trashy TV. 

(In fact, Waverly suspects that her sister has planned their time together down to the nth degree, even if there is no chance that Wynonna will admit to such a thing.)

“It’s a really nice, chilled out hostel,” Wynonna explains of their accommodation for the coming weeks. “I’ve been kipping in one of the big, shared dorms but since this is my once in a lifetime chance to treat my baby sister this big, we’re just gonna take a private room while you’re here. Means we can, y’know,” Wynonna clears her throat, “hang out. Catch up. Gross stuff like that.”

Waverly just smiles and lays her head on Wynonna’s shoulder.

“Gross stuff like that sounds perfect Wyn.”

 

 

 

 

 

The little youth hostel that is to be Waverly’s home base is surprisingly central, but still a little off the beaten track and away from the truly expensive tourist traps.

All the same, Waverly still manages to catch her first quick glimpse of the Acropolis as the bus tracks through the busy city streets, and she feels her eyes go wide to see the Parthenon so beautifully illuminated by the orange blaze of the low evening sun.

It is only a regular weeknight, but the city is bustling and Waverly itches to explore it all; modern and ancient alike. But twice during their bus ride she feels her eyelids drooping and she has to admit that she is not at peak capacity.

She does not want to sacrifice a single experience here to jetlag, and so she lets Wynonna take the reins for the night.

They alight the bus on a little stretch of road that seems to be filled entirely with eateries.

“Everything here is crazy good, doesn’t matter which shop you choose,” Wynonna assures her as they step into a particular storefront and Wynonna is greeted like a regular by a tall, dark-haired woman. Their food is waiting, and Wynonna pays for them both despite Waverly’s protestations.

“It’s gonna be a long summer Waves,” Wynonna says breezily as she leads them around a corner and points out the hostel halfway down the road, located right beside a small cafe. “I’m gonna milk that generous streak for all it’s worth - just not tonight.”

When they arrive, Wynonna gives her a quick tour of the amenities. This focuses mostly on the kitchen, dining hall, and, of course, the bar - all of which are located downstairs on the basement level. She has already switched rooms and collected the keys, so they go straight up once Waverly has her bearings.

For Waverly, who has never been in a hostel before and only has the stereotypes to go by, the place is surprisingly clean and comfortable. Best of all -

“Bunk beds,  _ yes _ ,” Waverly cries with a little air grab. She proceeds to drop her bag on the floor and hurry across the room. “Dibs on top bunk!”

Wynonna snorts. “You’re such a kid.”

“ _ Obviously _ ,” Waverly says, kicking off her sandals and scaling the little ladder. “It’s like our old room at the homestead!”

Wynonna does a credible job of feigning disdain, but she does not hesitate to snag two beers from a half-finished pack on the floor and join Waverly on the top bed.

They eat their food, drink more than enough beers to get them buzzed, and watch trashy TV on Waverly’s little tablet. They talk and talk, and it is everything it should have been between them for the past ten years.

The comparison settles in Waverly’s mind without any bitterness. This is enough. This is so much more than enough.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Waverly wakes up to find the room swaddled in the slim and cautious light of an early dawn. She surprises herself by feeling only a brief twist of disorientation, placing herself in the room fairly quickly.

She has no sense of what time it might be, only that it must be early. Far, far too early for an Earp.

She lets her eyes drift shut again but after just a few moments she can tell that she will not be sleeping again this morning.

Besides, there is an insistent press of her belly that demands more urgent attention.

When she emerges again from the bathroom, she finds that she must have disturbed Wynonna.

“Please tell me you’re not already up and in a rush to go outside,” she murmurs from beneath her comforter, her voice monotonous and clearly still full of sleep. It makes Waverly jump - Wynonna had never been so quick to stir in the time before.

“No, just really needed to pee. I don’t think I’ll be sleeping again now though, but you should.”

Wynonna stretches and makes the little contented noise that comes from such an indulgent movement.

“S’fine. It’s your first morning, I’ll show you around.” She makes no additional show of movement, but her voice sounds clearer now, as though she is more awake than asleep. “But you’re on your own if you’re up early again. Especially if I have to work the night before.”

Wynonna keeps her funds ticking over by picking up bar work, of this Waverly is already aware. She had not expected that Wynonna could take an indefinite amount of time off, and she is okay with that.

“ _ Aw _ ,” Waverly says, deciding on impulse to play the role of little sister and clamber into Wynonna’s bed instead of her own. “You  _ do _ care.”

“Not  _ that _ much. Like I said, you won’t be seeing me this early again,” Wynonna says with a displeased groan, trying to barge Waverly back out of bed again. It would be impossible at the best of times, but the bunk bed’s ladder kind of makes the whole thing into a farce.

After a half-hearted scuffle, Waverly ends up still in bed, even winning a corner of Wynonna’s blanket to show for her resistance.

Eventually Wynonna relents and makes a great show of letting Waverly cuddle up.

“You’ve got a lot of years of this stuff to make up for,” Waverly points out. “There’s so much more to come.”

“No offence Waves, but if I’m gonna share my bed - and I  _ am _ \- it’s gonna be with someone who isn’t you.”

Waverly wrinkles her nose. “Ugh. No thank you. None of that while I’m here - I didn’t bring noise cancelling headphones.”

Wynonna shrugs. “There’s a dude here, he’s fun, and you’re here for a long time. You’re on the top bunk, you’ll be fine. You’re a  _ graduate _ now.”

It is clear she is joking about Waverly being present, but still Waverly scoffs.

“Right. Because that has anything to do with it.”

Finally, Wynonna emerges fully from the blankets and shimmies up the bed to lay parallel to Waverly. “It means you are mature and capable.”

“Yes. Mature, capable, and unwilling to listen to you getting it on with some guy.” Waverly pouts. “Can’t believe you’re gonna kick me out the room.”

Wynonna’s response comes complete with an affected, patronising tone of false sympathy.

“Poor you. Look - you’ll make friends while you’re locked out. Who knows, you might meet someone fun too. More fun than  _ Champ the chump _ anyway.”

“Is this the part where I’m supposed to thank you?”

“Sure it is. I’m giving you advance notice  _ and _ it’ll be character building for you. What more could you want?”

_ What more indeed _ , Waverly thinks with a fond smile.

Wynonna might be an asshole, but Waverly really has missed her.

 

 

 

 

 

They make a leisurely trip down to the dining hall an hour later, both of them surprised to find it rammed full of people.

It looks as though several coach-loads of travellers are preparing to depart, each person trying to fill their boots with as much complimentary coffee and hot buttered toast as they can.

“I thought hostel types wouldn’t be up so early,” Waverly says as they take their chances picking out something to eat at the food counter, darting between sleepy, indecisive people struggling with the industrial-sized toaster.

Waverly settles on lemon tea and a cheap-looking granola mix, happy that the hostel have provided dairy-free yoghurt. They clearly know their crowd.  

“Generous of you to assume that half of these kids have been to bed,” Wynonna points out and, upon closer inspection, Waverly notes that the people who don’t appear to be packed and ready to leave do indeed have the look of a heavy night of drinking on their faces.

Laden down with bowls and mugs, Wynonna starts glancing about the room to find a place for them to sit. Most of the tables appear to be entirely full, but Wynonna must spot something Waverly misses, because she lets out a triumphant little  _ a-ha! _ before starting to push her way between groups of people milling about on the same mission to find seating.

Wynonna leads them to a little corner table, almost obscured by the roving mass of bodies and occupied only by one other person. There are the remnants of another meal in the place-setting opposite the stranger, clearly left by someone who did not wish to clear up after themselves. However, there is more than enough space for the sisters.

When they make it to the table, Wynonna surprises Waverly when she does not bother to announce herself or ask to sit down. Instead, she simply squeezes into the seat next to the mess of used crockery, leaving Waverly the space next to the other, unknown person.

Unknown so she thinks, until it becomes clear that Wynonna is, in fact, already acquainted with the not-stranger at the table.

“Haught, you won’t mind if we join,” Wynonna says, sitting down and not waiting for a response. “Fucking manic in here right now.”

“Sure thing,” the woman at the table says absently without looking up, scrolling through something on her phone.

Wynonna gestures at Waverly to sit down. Waverly obeys, furrowing her brow at her sister.

“What did you just call her?” she mouths silently and, after a few tries, Wynonna understands and throws her head back in a laugh that sends a blush to Waverly’s cheeks. She had been trying to be subtle.

“Haught,” Wynonna says again, but the word still sounds odd to Waverly’s ears like  _ hot _ with slightly out of place intonation. Whatever Wynonna is saying, it pulls the attention of the woman to her again.  “Not hot like I’d want her to get ideas above her station. Hot like  _ Haught.  _ H-a-u-g-h-t like the most unfortunate surname since we got Christened Earps.”

Beside Waverly, the woman - somebody Haught, apparently - quirks her eyebrow at Wynonna who is already chugging her coffee like it is the elixir of life.

“I’m wounded,” the woman says drily. “Truly I am. Or I would be, if I weren’t so impressed that you’ve strung a coherent sentence together at this time of morning. Normally you’re too drunk.”

“If you know that, it’s only because you’re drunk too,” Wynonna bats back and the other woman smirks.

“Drunk at the same time as you maybe, but never as drunk  _ as _ you.”

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Narc.”

“Asshole.”

“Takes one to know one.”

There is clearly a rapport here, one Waverly has not been filled in on. But as she watches the side of Haught’s face with interest, Waverly finds herself wanting to be caught up as quickly as possible.

Instead of responding immediately, the other woman turns to face Waverly, taking a long moment to survey her before speaking again.

“She didn’t tell me her little sister was cuter than her, so I can see now that she’s just being mean to make up for it.” She sticks her hand out for Waverly to shake. “I’m Nicole, it’s only your sister that calls me Haught. I think she’s trying to tell me something.”

Wynonna snorts. “Yeah, that I don’t like you enough to be on familiar terms.”

Ignoring Wynonna, Nicole keeps her eyes fixed on Waverly’s face as they shake hands for what quickly becomes too long. Waverly finds herself staring back at Nicole, not thinking to let go.  

“I don’t like  _ her  _ either,” Nicole tells Waverly, leaning in slightly and pretending to be conspiratorial.

Waverly sees this as the part where she introduces herself too, but for some reason she doesn’t. The words simply do not come.

Her brain slows down, sluggishly trying to process the woman next to her; the strong grip of her hand around Waverly’s, her easy back and forth with Wynonna, the fact that she seems to know that Waverly is the younger sister. The interaction seems to lag in her brain as she gets absurdly hung up on being called cute.

Perhaps she is more jetlagged than she had realised. Perhaps she is deep down a little flattered, given that Nicole Haught is they very definition of the word she had used to describe Waverly.

Waverly gets stuck on Nicole’s short, bright red hair and her sharp, clear brown eyes. They seem to go on endlessly, deep and dark; almost like they extend back into her soul. 

Silently, Waverly looks away, aware that she should speak but only finding new things to observe - scar on Nicole’s forehead, birthmark below her left eye - and forgets that she needs to say something.

“She’s not usually this weird,” Wynonna butts in when Waverly still does not speak. “I mean, she’s the family nerd and all round goody-two-shoes so she  _ is _ weird. But she normally speaks. Actual words too, most of the time, instead of an absent facial expression.”

Waverly feels herself blush again, finally remembering to let go of Nicole’s hand.

Mercifully, Nicole looks unperturbed by both the handshake and Waverly’s silence, which she all but trips over herself to break.

“Look, going forward, whatever she tells you about me needs to be ignored or treated as slander,” Waverly says, voice coming out small and not at all like her own.

Nicole chuckles, the sound warm and welcoming to Waverly’s ears. “Oh, she already has. Told me about you, I mean. The college graduate, right? First in the family, I hear. Congratulations.”

Nicole says this with a smile, and she sounds genuine when she delivers her well wishes. Most people offer a sort of cursory word, but Nicole looks as though this is a genuine achievement.

Waverly’s blush lingers and feels as though it deepens.

“Thanks,” she says before pulling a face, “but I dread to think what she’s already told you about me. I’m  _ not _ a goody-two-shoes. I just didn’t do as much crazy shit as she did. She set that bar recklessly high.”  

“Relax,” Nicole says, laughing and fiddling with the handle of her coffee cup. “She only says nice things really. She actually roped me in to make your airport sign since the dude at the front desk wouldn’t even give her two pieces of paper from the printer.”

“ _ Jobsworth _ ,” Wynonna mutters indignantly from across the table before draining her coffee and indicating at Nicole with a tilt of her head. “She was the distraction.”

“Well, I appreciate your efforts,” Waverly says to Nicole, finally feeling a little more herself. “And your attempt to spare my blushes about whatever my sister has said about me.”

“You have  _ so _ little faith in me,” Wynonna protests, rising and gesturing at her empty mug. “It’s insulting. Almost as insulting as your insinuation that you’ve ever done anything remotely rebellious. I know that’s a lie.”

She drifts off in search of more coffee, deliberately not giving Waverly the chance to have the final word. For some absurd reason, she feels a need to justify herself to the woman sat next to her.

“I’m really not that square,” she says, stealing another glance at Nicole. She finds her wearing a sweet, earnest expression.

“Best not to tell me anything more,” Nicole says with a playful but very deliberate wink. “I might have to arrest you when you get back home.”

Waverly finds herself struggling to keep up with the tone laced through Nicole’s response. To a degree, it seemed kindly - as though Nicole is sparing Waverly the embarrassment of having to justify herself. But that wink…

It is too early in the morning for Waverly to keep pace with this, because Nicole can’t be...surely she isn’t...

All the same, there is a playful glint in Nicole’s eye that makes it hard to tell.

Waverly swallows. “Oh, I thought Wynonna was joking about that.”

“No, for my sins I’m a couple months away from training to be a cop. I graduated from college a while ago, but I wanted to do some travelling first. I won’t get much of a chance once I start my course.”

Waverly nods, happy to have something she can talk about without getting too flustered.

“I want to start my PhD - I’m actually waiting to hear if I got my funding through. But Wynonna wanted me to come out here for a bit. She arranged the trip and paid as a graduation present.”

“I know,” Nicole says, still smiling. “She really did tell me lots of nice stuff. She seemed super proud. We’ve both been here a while  now, exploring the area. She really has been excited all week. Just don’t tell her I told you that.”

“Promise,” Waverly says, face splitting into a grin at Nicole’s words. Of course she knows how much Wynonna loves her, but her sister is abroad so often that sometimes Waverly finds herself feeling insecure. It was nice of Nicole to tell her that.  “I would have come regardless, just to see Wynonna. But her trip coincided so well - me getting my degree while Wynonna just happened to be in Greece - it felt like fate. And yeah, same, I won’t get another chance for a proper break if I do get my funding.”

“Ancient History and something-or-other, right?” Nicole says, expression settling into something apologetic when she cannot remember the frustratingly long title of Waverly’s course.

“‘Ancient History and Classical Studies’, yeah,” Waverly supplies. “We all hated that dumbass name.”

“When do you find out? About the funding?” Nicole asks, sounding genuinely interested.

“Any day now, I hope.”

“Well, I’ll keep these crossed for you,” she holds up her hand and shows off interlocked fingers. “And you’ll have to let me buy you a celebratory drink once you know for sure.”

“Ah, but what if I don’t get the funding?”

“Comisaratory drink then,” Nicole bats back, not missing a beat. “But from what Wynonna’s told me you’ll be just fine. You sound like someone who sets their mind on something and goes out to get it.”

“Really?” Waverly asks, genuinely nonplussed. She is used to Wynonna’s jokes and constant teasing. She had no idea that her sister spoke quite so highly of her when they were apart. “Well, I guess that’s the same for you. You don’t sign up to be a cop if you’re not determined.”

Nicole wrinkles her nose. “Some people do. It’s not exactly a job with a glowing image right now, but thank God for Canada I guess,” she says with a laugh. “America always makes us look even better. But to answer your question, I guess I’m lucky. I usually know what I want.”

This time, Waverly does not miss the look Nicole throws her, or the way she pitches her voice. This time, it is obvious.

Waverly feels something flutter in her stomach, and the instantaneous response to Nicole’s comment takes Waverly by surprise. Mercifully, she is saved a response by Wynonna’s return, her sister already speaking before she even sits down with not one but two new cups of coffee.

“So, what un-fun activities you got planned today Haught?”

Nicole sends an inflammatory comment back at Wynonna and they settle into what seems to be an established form of bickering. Waverly uses it to allow herself a moment to process and, in honesty, to surreptitiously watch the side of Nicole’s face.

_ God, she’s pretty. _

She is pretty and likely into girls, if the flirting is anything to go by.

Waverly supposes that it is a small mercy that she can now say the same about herself with some degree of certainty. 

There had been a girl. Just one, at college.

It hadn’t been a relationship thing. Hell, it hadn’t even been more than a one-time drunken hook-up thing.

Living at home and commuting to campus, Waverly didn’t get the chance to go to a ton of parties. So when she went, she partied hard and she drank harder. She was raised an Earp, after all.

And at one party in particular, she had kissed a girl. Kissed her a  _ lot _ , actually.

She hadn’t done it to be one of  _ those _ girls. One of those straight-but-pretending-to-experiment girls.

She had done it because she was drunk enough to be uninhibited and attracted enough to forget that she had technically buried all those questions about herself a long time ago.

At first she was young and she already had a target on her back by being an Earp - she saw how kids picked on Robin Jett, even before he got outed to the whole school. At first, it just seemed like self-preservation to ignore how it felt, in her chest, when she saw a pretty woman. 

(A pretty woman like Nicole Haught). 

After a while, Waverly tamped her feelings down for so long that she all but forgot that there had ever been a question about her sexuality, so skillful was the ability to shove it to the recesses of her mind. 

Then she got with Champ. 

It seemed to put paid to the question of  _ women _ forever. Or rather, she allowed it to do just that.

But then almost as suddenly as it started when she was a teenager, by her third year of college her relationship with Champ was over. It ended on Waverly’s terms, when she could finally abide the infidelity no longer. At the age of twenty, she wasn’t with Champ. She was single and drinking at a party. And there was a girl, and she was smoking hot.

It had happened because Waverly liked girls and God, it had been so, so good.

It had forced her to really, truly confront the difficult question, until she had realised it wasn’t so difficult at all. She liked boys and she liked girls too. She probably liked everyone else besides.

But in spite of her revelation, she had not really mentioned it to many other people outside of her friends from college, and she had not kissed any girls since. Though, in fairness, she had not kissed any boys either. She had been too busy studying and working the rest of her free time away in Shorty’s.

She had longed for a while to simply tell someone, just so it didn’t feel like some kind of illicit little secret. But while she loved Gus and Curtis with all her heart, they were old school rural folk who just might not understand. She wasn’t ready for things to change.

She had toyed with the idea of telling Wynonna, but their relationship just didn’t seem to be in that place yet. They were getting there, but Waverly still wasn’t quite sure.

But now, it just might be written all over her face as she stares up at Nicole Haught like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

She knows she is doing it, she just cannot seem to kickstart her brain and do something about it.

“Anyway, bunch of us are going to take a hike. There’s this great trail up at Parnitha,” Nicole says, Waverly just about zoning in enough to catch this response. She is familiar with the area, aware that the old Greek royal family used to live there. 

“See?” Wynonna says, spreading far too much butter on her toast. “Totally un-fun.”

“Well what wild plans do you have?” Nicole asks, looking unbothered.

Wynonna jerks her head at Waverly. “Super nerd over there will skin me alive if we don’t do a crumbly old ruins tour on her first day.”

“Hey!” Waverly cries, indignant. “You invited  _ me _ here.”

“She raises a good point,” Nicole says, tipping another quick wink in Waverly’s direction as if to say  _ I got your back _ .

In fact, Nicole seems to find this whole interaction frustratingly easy, even as she appears to be laying down certain kinds of  _ hints _ .

“Don’t you dare side with her, you’ve known her all of twenty seconds,” Wynonna says, looking offended.

“Yeah but I like her better already,” Nicole says with a shrug.

Before Wynonna can retort, a tall, dark-haired girl appears at the table to collect Nicole. “We’re leaving like, now.”

“That’s my cue,” Nicole says, rising immediately. She is already kitted out in a comfortable-looking pair of navy linen shorts. 

Indeed she is in such close proximity that Waverly cannot miss the way Nicole looks in the shorts. On top of everything else she is distractingly tall; her bare legs seemingly going on forever.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to miss a  _ fun _ day of hiking in this heat,” Wynonna says with a scoff.

“What can I say? Each step is a step away from you,” Nicole replies breezily, and her tone makes Waverly laugh.

Wynonna levels a stare at her sister and mouths ‘ _ traitor’ _ .

Nicole collects her dishes, plus the abandoned crockery and anything that Waverly and Wynonna seem to have finished with.

“I’d love to say it’s been great, but I wasn’t raised a liar. Later E arp,” Nicole says, smirking down at Wynonna. She turns her gaze onto Waverly, expression softening, “and much,  _ much _ superior Earp.”

Nicole leaves with no further fanfare, save for the hammering of Waverly’s heart, mercifully audible only to her own ears.

Waverly knows rationally that the comment had been a dig at Wynonna and not a specific compliment, but she cannot help it when her stomach twists uncomfortably.

_ This wasn’t what I came here for _ , she reminds herself sternly, trying to put the whole thing out of her mind.

 

 

 

 

 

As they finally leave the dining hall and step out into the bright morning sun, apropos of nothing Waverly asks,

“So do you guys hang out then? You and Nicole?”

She hopes that she manages to sound casual, but Wynonna sees through it and gives Waverly an odd look.

“Haught? I mean, not intentionally, but we usually bump into each other yeah. She’s alright I guess, for a cop. Why?”

“Just asking,” Waverly says quickly. “She seems nice.”

Wynonna laughs. “She literally gave me shit all through breakfast.”

“She gave you shit  _ back _ ,” Waverly amends with a smile. “You love it when people do that.”

“Yeah. You got me there,” Wynonna says with a sigh.

“And besides,” Waverly adds, “she was nice to  _ me _ .”

“Everyone’s nice to you babygirl. And if they’re not they have me to answer to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So are you guys all geared up for the cheesiest of cheese-fests??? If that opener wasn’t enough to demonstrate that this fic is going to be 1000% fluff then idk what will. 
> 
> I find one of the most daunting things is that first chapter, as I constantly doubt that anyone will want to read the stuff my dumb brain churns out! I would super appreciate your comments down below letting me know that this is worth continuing with as I guarantee I will question every life decision I’ve ever made the instant I hit the post button.
> 
> If you guys want to discuss my three favourite dynamics in this world (wayhaught, wynhaught, and earp sisters) then you can find me on twitter etc., as below. I’d also really appreciate you guys sharing my ko-fi or following my writing twitter. This fic lark is sm fun but it takes hella time, and I do have og stuff in the works somewhere so your support would be much appreciated. 
> 
> I also have a little aesthetic/picspam for this fic (I do it for all of them) on twitter here: https://twitter.com/rositabustiIIos/status/1060624721866297344  
> or tumblr here: http://birositabustillos.tumblr.com/post/179902945203/
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who reads, I truly never expect anyone to click on the stuff I post. I’ll be back twice next week, but until then be kind and take care!!
> 
> stan twitter: @rositabustiiios  
> tumblr: birositabustillos  
> ko-fi: www.ko-fi.com/alissawrites (writing twitter is also @alissawrites)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and happy almost-Friday for all those who follow that kind of working pattern! I'm really so happy that people let me know that they're interested in this fic. I hope the next part of this lives up to all the kind comments you guys left.
> 
> Disclaimer: when I wrote my Mummy AU I said often that my Egyptian history was rusty. Well my Greek history is rustier still. To the point I'm not even going to stray past the basics. If for some reason you're here for that, then I apologise. 
> 
> Okay, onto the cheesy fluff!!

The thing about visiting somewhere like Athens during the summer, Waverly quickly discovers, is that it is always absolutely packed out with people.

She had not expected some kind of romantic movie-set image, under no illusions of being provided solo access to the historical sites but she had expected to, well, move occasionally.

The lines of people up the Acropolis towards the Parthenon were long even before the sisters made it to the ticket desk at the bottom of the hill, and they barely seemed to move anywhere at all. People wanted to take their time breathing in the atmosphere all these old monuments create - an impulse to which Waverly was all too well acquainted.

Wynonna, however, does not possess quite the same patience.

Waverly insists that they can come back to the main attractions another day, but Wynonna is adamant that she wants to accompany Waverly and do what she terms ‘all the stereotypical stuff’ on the first proper day.

All the same, she shifts from foot-to-foot as they wait, sighing to herself when people bump into her or try and push the line forward. At one point she mutters ‘ _ if I could move, would I still be standing here? _ ’’ just loud enough for a group of fellow tourists behind her to hear, and it brings a small reprieve from all the pushing and shoving.

“I’m really sorry,” Waverly says, “I know it’s not your thing.”

Wynonna flashes her a bemused look, as though she cannot understand why Waverly is apologising.

“It’s  _ your  _ thing Waves. That’s part of why I paid for you to come here.”

Waverly smiles but feels somewhat deflated that she still falls back on her old bad habits.

Champ had absolutely hated History in school and had never pretended to understand why Waverly had cared so much. He rarely strived for good grades in any class, but was especially petulant when Waverly gave over their time together to revising dates and key events during senior year. She would write out cue cards and make him test her, and he absolutely hated it. But Waverly needed her grades for college, which only seemed to confuse Champ further.

His advice always left a lot to be desired, and often boiled down to simply: ‘ _ don’t worry about the exam babe. I don’t know why you’d need a History degree in Purgatory anyway _ .’

Even when she started college he didn’t want to hear about her classes and he especially didn’t want to help her with papers or research. Deep down, she knew that perhaps a little bit of what she was doing was, well, outside of Champ’s capacity, but she would have appreciated his support nonetheless.

At least she had always had Curtis, who would listen to her wax lyrical for hours about her coursework. And now she had Wynonna, who teased her about being a nerd but chose to stand in line with Waverly for an hour, only to be rewarded with hardly a measly glimpse of the Parthenon and its surrounding ruins. There were simply too many people around to allow Waverly to linger. It would have been a disappointment, but Waverly had known what to expect.

She is just happy to be there, finally able to see the sights that had drawn her eye in reference books for years. Better than that, she is happy to be experiencing this with Wynonna. Even with the crowds, even with the hot, sticky weather and the creeping sense of jet lag, even taking in the buildings from afar - the Parthenon is a sight to behold. It gives her a thrill, finally seeing it right in front of her. There is no one Waverly would rather have at her side as her heart skips beneath her ribs; no one other than Wynonna who could augment this moment into something more. 

Ever the scholar, she had known that the Acropolis had been reduced to the biggest (and probably most stressful) tourist trap in the city and that, in part, is why she wanted to visit it first. It is beautiful and it steals her breath, but there are other equally significant things for her to see - and they will not be half so crowded. 

Still, she allows herself the indulgence of turning in a full circle, taking in the atmosphere and the way mid-morning sun makes it all seem bright and faded, like an old polaroid photograph. 

“So come on,” Wynonna says when Waverly finishes her slow, indulgent rotation. “Give me the history lesson.”

Waverly flashes her sister a pointed look. “You probably know all this already.” 

“Maybe, maybe not,” Wynonna replies with a shrug. “But I wanna hear it from you.” 

“Well, we’re on the Acropolis, obviously,” Waverly begins, relenting easily and starting at the absolute beginner stage. “But  _ Acropolis  _ is basically just a conjunction of two Greek words which individually mean, roughly, ‘ _ end’ _ or, like, ‘ _ extremity _ ’ - top point basically - and ‘ _ town _ ’ or ‘ _ city _ ’. So  _ ‘acropolis _ ’ isn’t specific to this site, it’s just a significant example of one. The ancients called it something else, after the first mythical King of Athens. He was a snake-man.”

Wynonna raises one brow. “A snake-man?” 

“Yeah, literally part serpent, part human,” Waverly goes on, unperturbed by the odd detail.

“I love how wild this stuff is.” 

“I mean it’s the Greeks, so this is basically super tame,” Waverly points out, watching as Wynonna gives her a silent gesture to continue. “Most of the stuff you can see from here was constructed - or begun - in the fifth century BC, mostly organised by Pericles - who you might have heard of.”

Waverly waits for Wynonna’s response, which is a non-committal noise that Waverly takes to mean ‘ _ maybe _ ’. 

“Anyway, the point was that they were his work, but also the work of the people.” She points at the building nearest to them with its six east-facing columns. “This one right here is the Erechtheion.”

Wynonna throws Waverly a pointed look and Waverly just shakes her head.

“I knew you were going to, but don’t. Brief point: it has links to mythology around Athena and Poseidon which obviously connects to Athens.”

Wynonna nods. “I think the Athens-Athena thing is about the one part I can work out for myself kiddo.” 

“Alright,  _ sarcastic _ . You’d be surprised how many people don’t. Anyway, what’s great about this building is the south side. It has six Caryatids set in place of columns.” Waverly leads them through the throng of gawking tourists, pointing out the beautiful and well-preserved female statues, all of whom looked to be balancing a roof on their heads. 

After offering up a few more facts, Waverly goes on to identify the rest of the visible buildings or foundations, “...the old temple of Athena, the Propylaia, the Temple of Rome and Augustus, and well - ”

“The Parthenon,” Wynonna supplies, taking in the biggest - and most famous - of the structures still left standing. “It got hit, right? I did try and read up a bit before you arrived. Didn’t want to fall completely behind.” 

Waverly feels her stomach give a little squeeze at the earnest quiver in Wynonna’s voice. 

“You didn’t have to, but thank you.” Waverly smiles. “I appreciate it. And to answer your question, yeah it was under siege in 1680-something. Seven, I think. Or could be six, but I don’t think so. Anyway, 1680s. There was a war and the Venetians whacked it with a cannonball.” 

Wynonna gazes at the building for a moment, but it is clear that she is looking right through the stone.

“It’s super cool that you know all this stuff babygirl. I know you’re a nerd but it’s super, super cool too.  _ You’re _ super cool.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They both concede defeat by 11 o’clock when the sun gets too high, retiring past a marble owl sentinel and into the wonderfully air-conditioned Acropolis museum. Once inside, Wynonna is gracious enough to pretend that she isn’t bored and hungry as Waverly wanders painstakingly slowly from one display to another. She lingers at the exhibits dedicated to ancient Athenian domestic life, and snaps a few pictures of the Mycenaean section for her research proposals. She has a particularly deep interest in the Mycenaean and Minoan civilisations.

Wynonna keeps to Waverly’s pace or occasionally lingers at a statue or relief, reading the information card nearby. 

As they wander, they make the odd joke or keep a running commentary on the darkest, most innermost thoughts of some of the best preserved statues on display. 

By the time lunchtime has been and gone, however, Waverly begins to stifle her first yawns. The jetlag is catching up with her, the early start not helping things either. 

“Do you want to take a break?” Wynonna asks, “not that I want to rush you, obviously.”

“I have a long time here,” Waverly says with a smile. “I can always come back.”

Sure, the high entry fee was kind of a bugbear, but she had set aside a decent amount of cash for this trip (bolstered by Gus and Curtis’ rather generous donations) - since it could well be a once in a lifetime kind of vacation. 

Perhaps one day she would travel for her work, perhaps her research might take her places, but she didn’t always dare to dream.

They make a leisurely trip down the Acropolis, drifting northwards under Wynonna’s recommendation. 

“I’m guessing you’ll want to go?” she asks cryptically, and Waverly nods with gusto. 

She is talking about the historical district, where cafes and pottery shops with their bright blue Mediterranean awnings live alongside Byzantine churches and an old Roman agora. With its narrow alleyways and stereotypical aged, characterful houses, the old neighbourhood was the perfect, picturesque place for Waverly to take some Instagram-worthy pictures. 

They have missed the lunchtime rush and seat themselves outside at a quiet, old-fashioned tavern with a limited menu but enough vegan options - mostly salad - to suit Waverly just fine. They drink good beer and chatter in the sunshine, just about guarded from sunburn by the shade of a wonderfully fragrant bitter orange tree. 

The longer they linger, the more the exhaustion hits Waverly and although she is determined not to miss out on a single second here, she can almost feel her eyelids drooping in the oppressive heat. She had taken great pains to dress for the day - a light, short sundress and comfortable sandals - but she still feels as though she is already grimy with sweat and dust and dirt. 

She could almost see the appeal of a European siesta, but fights her fatigue by draining her beer and saying,

“C’mon. I wanna see some more.” 

Wynonna rolls her eyes and smiles fondly; Waverly had never been one to give in. 

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

For the rest of the day, they complete a full tourist’s loop of the city, never straying too far or trying anything too adventurous. 

Waverly assures herself that there will be plenty of time to get lost in quaint little backstreets, but is happy for the time being to tick off a pretty standard and unimaginative bucket list. They use  _ Dionysiou Areopagitou _ \- a street that links a handy number of ancient sights - to sneak a quick look at the Theatre of Dionysus and briefly segue into a flea market as they take a sweeping, nonsensical route around the city. The National Gardens provide a wonderful oasis of calm and shade, and the sisters even manage to catch the changing of the guards - although this is more by chance than by design. 

They stop off at bars or cafes for a beer or cheap, weak glass of wine whenever they feel like it and all told, Waverly cannot remember a day when she felt happier. 

Secretly, she had wondered if perhaps things might be awkward between her and Wynonna in the initial few days. They had been in touch a lot during recent years, but they had not been together in person for far longer than Waverly wished to count. They had both changed, grown, since the last time - and hanging out in person was undeniably different to a video call conducted while Waverly mostly studied, or an online hangout to watch a movie at the same time. She had wondered if it might be stilted, even if she might feel shy around the cool big sister she had always idolised. That is, until Wynonna upped and left Waverly all alone in Purgatory.

For a while, Waverly  _ had _ been bitter. There was no denying it, and although she had tried to hide it when Wynonna mentioned it in the early days of their reconnection, Waverly had never been an especially good liar. Gus always told her that her face was too honest for her own good, and Waverly was inclined to believe her aunt. 

But in truth, Waverly has not harbored any ill-feeling towards Wynonna in years, and on that first full day together there is barely a beat of silence between them. 

Wynonna still knows how to make her laugh until she cries, still knows how to carry along a conversation between them as though it is the easiest thing in the world. 

(It  _ is _ the easiest thing in the world).

They talk about everything and nothing as they walk, or as they sit and find a small bite to eat to keep them going until their free breakfast the next morning. 

They talk animatedly on the bus back to the hostel. 

In fact, they barely stop talking. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I know I said I was tired Wyn, but I’m pretty sure I can manage a few drinks in the bar,” Waverly says, adjusting the towel on her head, wrapped snugly around her wet hair. She pokes her tongue out at her sister. “Something gave me the impression that you spend a lot of time down there when you’re not babysitting your sleepy little sister.”

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “Don’t judge. They sell good drinks at almost scarily cheap prices. And they have a pool table.”

“What more could you want?” Waverly says, sarcastically putting on a dreamy sigh and causing Wynonna to aim a playful kick at her as she crosses the room to find something to wear. 

“I’m just saying, if you’re tired you don’t have to feel bad about tapping out this once. I’ll only be slightly ashamed of any recessive Earp genes that lead to such a decision.”

“It’s fine, I don’t want to be boring and go to bed  _ this _ early.” Her cell phone only reads  _ 21:30 _ and Waverly sternly tells herself that she needs to adjust to this timezone.

And if she needs to adjust, she needs to keep herself awake. There is no better place to do so than in a crowded, noisy bar.

The decision is a pragmatic one, and has absolutely nothing to do with the events of breakfast earlier that day.

It has nothing to do with any new acquaintances, ones that had been lingering at the back of Waverly’s mind all day, even as she consciously lived in the moment - every moment - with Wynonna. It has nothing to do with arriving back at the hostel and thinking of any such new acquaintance by immediate association. 

Waverly is definitely, one hundred percent not thinking about the possibility that  _ she _ might be down there at the bar tonight too. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

If Nicole has chosen to spend some time at the bar tonight, then it is not immediately obvious when the sisters arrive. 

Waverly does her best to be surreptitious when she casts her eyes around the bar. It is busy and the lights have been dimmed around most of the seating areas but even so, Waverly thinks she might have spotted Nicole if she were here. 

For all Waverly knows, Nicole is still out hiking with her group of friends - perhaps they are going to make a camping trip of it. Or else they could have hit a bar in the city together to end the day.

Whatever the case, she is not here. 

Trying not to feel disappointed - she is here to see Wynonna, after all, not to try and immerse herself in the charming haze of a pretty stranger - Waverly insists on ordering the first set of drinks. 

She chooses at random off a list of ‘cocktails’ on an old blackboard behind the bar. They are not so much cocktails in the conventional sense, but rather an alchemic experiment in how many liquors can be mixed with soft drinks or juices and still produce a fairly passable taste (in spite of what is sure to be a noxious, worryingly intoxicating end result). 

But, in spite of her exhaustion, a wild night of partying with her big sister is something Waverly has been denied throughout all of her youth. She wants to take as many opportunities as possible while she is here. 

She picks something sweet with grenadine and cointreau for herself, and something a little less cloying -  _ Tia Maria _ ,  _ Luxardo  _ \- for Wynonna on instinct. 

When the glasses arrive, Wynonna makes a point of wrinkling her nose. “You know I didn’t earn a reputation as a  _ cocktail drinker _ .” 

Already in the process of sliding Wynonna’s glass towards her, Waverly tightens her grip on the drink and raises her eyebrows.

“Please, you know these aren’t proper cocktails. And besides, I can keep both, if you want.” 

They resist each other in a brief stalemate as Wynonna fixes her own fingers around the rim of the glass. Even this is understated - regular tumblers instead of specific cocktail glasses.

“I never said that.”

“Then shut up and stop being so ungrateful,” Waverly says playfully, relinquishing her grip on the glass. “These will get you drunk quicker.”

They both take a sip in unison, assessing the taste. After a moment, Wynonna looks grudgingly pleased with the result. 

“You know, you got really mean in my absence.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They are three drinks in when a few of the hostel regulars stop by. 

Clearly Wynonna has made an impression, because she is on cordial (by Wynonna’s standards) speaking terms with more than a few people. A group of men pass by the table the sisters had managed to snag, mostly to heckle Wynonna which - Waverly assumes - is probably no more than she deserves. 

They wind her up about her poor performance in a recent pool game, leaving Wynonna to lay down bets for a repeat standoff.

“You on my team, babygirl?” Wynonna asks, preparing to rise as one of the men asks behind the bar for a set of cues. 

“Metaphorically? Always. For pool? Absolutely not, I’m terrible.” 

Wynonna blows a raspberry. “You also got  _ boring _ in my absence.” 

“Hey! I’ll watch and cheer! But I’d just undo all of your good work, trust me.” 

As a group, they shift towards the pool tables and one of the men - Waverly does not catch his name - makes idle chatter with her. He is good-looking, and Wynonna tips her a very pointed wink when he looks away. 

Waverly just rolls her eyes. The dude reminds her a little too much of Champ for her liking. 

All the same, he has the decency to offer to buy her a drink but, with her glass still mostly full, she refuses with a polite word of thanks. 

“Maybe later,” he says with a confident smile, noting the purple liquid sloshing around as she walks. She is already perhaps a little more unsteady than she would like but, looking around the bar, most people seem to be on the same trajectory. 

It feels nice to let loose for a while. 

True to her word (and her high school training) Waverly is an excellent cheerleader for Wynonna, who holds her own well against her opponent. 

The same guy sits with Waverly to watch, and continues making small talk. Mostly he talks about himself and asks her little in return; much too much like her ex, then. At one point, he slings an easy arm over the backrest of Waverly’s seat, but has the good sense to withdraw it again fairly swiftly when Waverly gives a pointed little shuffle in her chair, mindfully changing the angle of her body. 

Then, just when there is a pleasantly fuzzy feeling descending over her, something far more interesting than the too-tight t-shirt next to her catches her eye. 

A flash of cropped red hair, halfway across the bar and heading in the opposite direction. She looks to be making her way out, facing away from Waverly as she walks. 

Improbably, however, Nicole turns her head at the last minute and they spy each other as she passes by, heading for the staircase that brings her up to the entrance hall. 

Nicole tips a wave and smiles wide. 

That is all it is, just a smile, but it puts deep dimples in her cheeks and Waverly’s stomach just  _ drops _ . 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There is a moment where Waverly, now too tipsy for entirely sound judgement, actually considers following Nicole.

She could catch her up, perhaps under the pretence of asking after her hiking trip. 

But even with nearly three full cocktails uninhibiting her, Waverly considers that it is perhaps odd to do so when they both hardly know each other.

Perhaps if she had the rapport with Nicole that Wynonna had already developed... 

Now unable to avoid a small sting of disappointment, Waverly redirects her attention back to the pool game. Wynonna has taken a great stride ahead in the last frame, and is too concentrated to notice Waverly’s lapse and the way even that short moment of eye-contact had deepened the alcohol flush already tight against her cheeks. 

Conversation with the man beside her peters out eventually. Waverly is too tipsy to care all that much. Perhaps he realises that Waverly is not interested in the dumb drinking games he and his football buddies play at college. He is younger than her, still an undergraduate, and although Waverly herself is still far from elderly she feels this age difference acutely. 

She wonders how old Nicole is, senses that she is older. Something about that draws Waverly further in, the idea that Nicole is experienced and  _ mature _ in a way this guy does not seem to be. 

Waverly almost wants to shake her head at herself. She had met Nicole for all of half an hour; she should not feel as though she has been rearranged on the inside. And yet, absurdly, she had agreed to come down to the bar in hopes of even just a glimpse of the other woman. 

It is like a moth to a flame, the way she has done this by design. She almost feels silly, embarrassed even, but then a voice sounds up behind her and it is like a soft balm on her warm skin. 

“I thought you guys were running low.”

Waverly whirls round, far too fast at the best of times, but she is drunk enough now that the movement is more erratic than she would have liked. 

Nicole is standing there, beautiful in a set of denim cut-offs and a wonderfully form-fitting - but slightly too-short - turquoise ringer tee. She has three beers with her, two of them hooked in one hand by the bottle necks. 

She smiles when Waverly meets her gaze. “And we couldn’t have the drinks running dry on Wynonna’s watch.” 

“I hear your sarcasm and I don’t like it Haught,” Wynonna says absently from behind Waverly, her voice muffled as she no doubt bends over the pool table. “But I’ll happily take the beer.”

“I’m sure you will,” Nicole says drily, grinning and flashing Waverly a playful look that sends her stomach skittering in circles beneath her skin. With the amount of cocktails sitting in her belly, it is not an altogether pleasant feeling.  

Nicole briefly passes by to set Wynonna’s beer down closer to hand, and she even receives a mock-reluctant thanks for her efforts.

She returns to Waverly, however, a moment later with a conspiratorial wink. “Better not disturb the game, it looks intense.”

“Well Waves wouldn’t join my team. Never thought I’d say this Haught but I wish you’d been here. Could have used another player.” 

“Well it looks like you’ve got it all covered now. I’ll sit it out until the next round.” Nicole turns to Waverly, a question written on her face.

“Oh, no. I’m horrible at pool.” 

“Ah,” Nicole says gravely. “Well if you’re here all summer maybe we’ll have to teach you. You have to learn some new skills while you’re travelling.” 

“What, can you work miracles?” Waverly asks with a scoff.

At her choice of words, Nicole flashes her a confident little smirk.

“Give me a shot. Guess we’ll see.” 

Waverly feels a little shiver drift down her back as she prays ineffectually for a decent comeback. Nothing is forthcoming, however, so she changes the subject in a weak effort to say anything at all.

For the second time today, Nicole Haught makes her lose track of even the most basic of functions - speech foremost among them. 

“I thought you were leaving,” Waverly says, already feeling how the booze makes the words stick like syrup in her mouth. “When I saw you just now.” 

She wants to cringe. Nicole seems sober and Waverly is already well on her way to being drunk. She is probably going to make an idiot of herself, and leave Nicole determined never to associate with her again. 

“Well, it was pretty fifty-fifty when I headed for the bathroom,” Nicole says, astute enough to answer the unspoken question. “Today has knocked me for six. But then I saw you guys over here. Figured I could use a beer or two.” 

She smiles again, and it strikes Waverly just how easily those little gestures come to Nicole. She is  _ nice _ , effortlessly so, and Waverly feels that prevailing trait draw her in deeper. 

“Your hike?” Waverly asks. “How was it?”

“Yeah, good. Really, really good thanks,” Nicole says with obvious enthusiasm, and Waverly watches with a sense of familiarity as she restricts herself from saying anything further for a moment. Unlike Waverly herself, however, Nicole changes her mind and offers up more, happier to speak about what she loves. “I’m sure you’ll have heard of it, but it’s this beautiful route. We kind of made it hard on ourselves, especially with the weather today, but it was worth it. I uh, took some pictures - if you wanted to see?” 

“Of course,” Waverly says quickly and Nicole slips her phone from her back pocket. 

“Promise I don’t have too many.” 

“Don’t be silly, show me them all.” 

Nicole comes closer to hold the phone out for Waverly, letting her scroll away at her own leisure. 

At such close proximity, Waverly can smell the shampoo on Nicole’s hair - strong like it had just been washed. She can see now that the ends are still damp, and realises that Nicole has not long arrived back. 

There is another scent drifting between them too; something sweet that Waverly cannot quite place. Whatever it is, she likes it and revels in the way it envelops her. 

Nicole has taken a vast array of scenic photos. Waverly scrolls through them backwards, starting with an impressive sunset that illuminates the outline of the city in the foreground. When she travels back to photos from the start of the day, she accidentally scrolls one too far and finds an internet screenshot. There is a big ginger cat in a picture on the webpage and Nicole gives a self-effacing little  _ tsk _ when she sees it.

  
“Sorry. I’m in touch with a rescue centre at the moment. I kind of want to adopt a cat when I’m home.”  

Waverly, who had never had pets, feels a tiny spark of jealousy. 

“I work in a bar at home and my boss lets me live in the flat upstairs. I love it but it’s tiny - much too small and noisy for animals. But I’d love a puppy one day.”

“Me too,” Nicole says with quick and enthusiastic emphasis. “But I can’t with my training.” 

“Tragic.” 

This interjection comes from Wynonna who seems to have won her pool game and had evidently decided that any time not giving Nicole crap was time wasted. 

“ _ Wynonna _ ,” Waverly says, half-chiding but acutely aware that her sister will ignore her. 

“Aw, Cute-Face left,” Wynonna says, sitting in the seat the man had vacated without Waverly’s knowledge. It almost startles her, realising how easily she had turned her attention away from him. 

“No sad loss,” she says quickly, chancing a glance at Nicole. For some reason, she is uncomfortable at the idea of Nicole knowing that Wynonna had been egging her on with Football Guy.

“And you think  _ I’m _ mean?” Wynonna says, taking a sip of beer and tilting her head to address Nicole. “I’m trying to convince my square little sis here to have some fun.” 

Waverly gives a wordless cry before saying, “I’m  _ not _ that square.” 

Wynonna shrugs. “Whatever you say. Haught will tell you otherwise, I’m sure.” 

“Waverly seems plenty fun,” Nicole says. She is almost certainly trying to wind Wynonna up but that same undertone, flirtatious from this morning is back in her voice. “I’m sure she knows exactly what she wants to do to let loose.”

“ _ Thank you _ ,” Waverly says with a smug look in her sister’s direction. 

“Is this how it’s gonna be now Haught?” Wynonna asks with a scowl. “You siding with my sister all summer?” 

Nicole gives Waverly a long, lingering look. “Oh yeah, almost certainly.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

For the next week, Waverly and Wynonna stay in each other’s orbit, enjoying the time they can spend together without the often oppressive atmosphere of Purgatory hanging over them. 

It is hard to be completely at ease when everyone was talking about them and judging them for their family name.

Here in Greece, however, no one knew them at all. 

The only exceptions are Nicole and the other acquaintances made by Wynonna at the bar, and they do not know the first thing about all that Earp baggage. 

It might just have been the most liberating experience of both of their lives.

For the first time, Waverly could see why Wynonna left. 

She could be anyone she wanted when she stepped out of her family’s shadow and it was  _ wonderful _ . 

Together, the sisters make a small dent in everything the city has to offer. Waverly has her sights set on all the other ancient relics; the Panathenaic Stadium, The Sanctuary of Zeus Polieus, the remnants of the old agora...

As an escape from the high midday heat, Waverly starts ticking off her museum bucket-list in the afternoons - beginning with the National Archaeological Museum. She has a list as long as her arm, and ensures that she takes Wynonna to the biggest, more generalised ones. The very small, very niche offerings are the ones she will save for herself. 

Wynonna might have set up a temporary base of sorts here, but she was still technically a traveller too and Waverly wanted to do things that would make them both happy. 

Whilst at the museums, she snaps pictures of information cards when she can (mostly where they are not too close to the objects on display) and makes quick notes in roughshod shorthand that, she suspects, is mostly a version of her own design - completely nonsensical to everyone else. She makes a point of adding her own ideas and thoughts into an old notebook in the evenings, whilst she waits for Wynonna to shower and change before they head back outdoors for dinner and drinks. 

They even set aside a day to go to Piraeus, the old seaside town a train ride away from the bustle of Athens’ city centre. It offers them a little haven of calm, even if it has become a little too touristy in places for Wynonna’s taste. Still, they get their fix of more quaint cafes and Waverly gets to tick ‘boat ride’ off her non-historical wishlist, as they set out from the port for an excursion to the tiny, postcard-perfect islands of the outlying gulf. 

They are completely free to manage their own schedule; starting late on the days when a booze-hazy late night has extended into the small hours. On the mornings when they are craving a little more than the hostel’s mercenary free breakfast, they venture to the cafe next door. It sells a wonderful array of pastries and sandwiches, and has a strong coffee blend that is always especially welcome after a night of drinking. 

Sometimes Nicole joins them in the bar in the evenings, and Waverly tries - and fails - not to gravitate to her like they are tied with string.

The whole trip gives Waverly the feeling of re-living a youth she never had in the first place. So much of her childhood was robbed after her father’s death and Willa’s abduction, and she lived her adolescence trying to throw off all the resultant negative associations. She picked up work at Shorty’s as soon as he was willing to turn a blind eye to her status as underage, adamant that she would pay Gus and Curtis’ endless kindness back by working hard and getting into college. She had had her share of fun with Champ’s group of high school buddies (because really, the likes of Stephanie Jones had never truly been friends to her) but in truth, Waverly cannot remember a time before now when she was completely carefree.

The only thing she has to worry about is her PhD funding, but that seems a small niggle in comparison to the baggage she has carried around at other times. 

After a week, however, Wynonna cannot take any more time away from her current work gig. She will not hold onto her slightly sketchy sounding, cash-in-hand sports bar job if she does not show her face soon. 

“You know how it is,” Wynonna says one afternoon as they sit in their bedroom. Wynonna is changing her clothes and Waverly is sprawled on the top bunk with a notebook open in her lap. 

“I think we both know I don’t.”

“Well, I don’t  _ technically _ have a work visa,” Wynonna explains. She is in a rush, trying to get ready for the early-evening bar and kitchen shift. 

Waverly, on the other hand, is unhurried and rather sleepy after all the walking she and Wynonna have been doing. It really is the best way to take in the sights and the atmosphere of the place. 

She has, in truth, eschewed her notes in favour of her cell phone, which she is using to look up public transport and make a note of the fares. Her Ancient Greek is flawless and as such she gets by easily enough here, but the languages are still subtly different and she wants to be prepared. She does not want to coast by on the reliance of others speaking English. 

With Wynonna heading back to work now, she wants to make preparations for her first solo trips. 

“Visas don’t sound like a ‘technically’ type of thing,” Waverly points out absently, still scrolling on her phone. 

“How so?” 

This is enough to finally draw Waverly’s full attention. She does her best to look unimpressed.

“Either you have one or you don’t, Wyn.”

Wynonna huffs. “Okay fine, I don’t. But the bars like it better that way. Less for them to pay out. But the jobs are hard to come by and I don’t want them kicking me off their books. I’m really sorry I’ll be working while you’re here Waves.”

Waverly chuckles lightly. “I’m here for a while, unless you’ve got secret plans to pack me off home soon. We don’t have to spend every waking moment together. I won’t be offended.”

Wynonna just smiles and ducks into the bathroom with an armful of clothes.

She is ready to go twenty minutes later, pausing at the door.

“Please don’t spend your  _ entire _ evening in here being a nerd,” she says, nodding at Waverly’s ever-growing pile of museum notes. “At least be a nerd in public somewhere, it’ll be light for hours. And when it gets dark - do everything I’d do.”

Waverly rolls her eyes as Wynonna shuts the door behind her, but acknowledges that she should at least stave off a nap by going downstairs for a while.

 

 

 

 

 

 

She ventures to the hostel kitchen-come-dining room with the same bubble of hope in her chest as she had carried almost a week prior. 

She is hoping to oh-so conveniently bump into Nicole. And she is in luck.

She has barely been sat with her notebook in front of her for five minutes when Nicole treks down the stairs, a canvas bag full of what appears to be groceries hooked on one shoulder. 

Nicole spots her and smiles, stopping at the table to chat. 

She has, apparently, had a quiet day wandering the city. Prior to this, she had shared stories of an entirely too active week for Waverly’s tastes; hiking, water sports, sailing…

“I think you earned a rest,” Waverly says with a little smile. 

“Well the same group of us are trying out Pendeli mountain tomorrow,” she explains. “There’s apparently this creepy old cave we want to check out.” 

“Well just don’t get possessed by any ancient spirits,” Waverly advises and Nicole laughs deeply, belying the luxury of a life completely eschewed from talk of the paranormal as anything but a joke. “I’d miss our evenings drinking.”

“Yeah?” Nicole asks, raising her eyebrows and looking genuinely surprised.

“Of course,” Waverly replies, trying to put weight into her tone. 

“Well it’s early but I can grab us a beer now if you’d like? I was just going to make a sandwich for myself. I can put something together for you too, if you want? Vegan, right?”

“Yes,” Waverly says, “if that’s alright, I’d really like that.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They occupy their quiet corner all night and chat; one of those roving conversations that covers everything and nothing in the way of two people intent on getting to know each other well.

They veer from from the reasoning behind their career choices, to the merits (Waverly) and drawbacks (Nicole) of olives in salad, making pit stops at every other topic in between.

They are still awake when a bleary-looking Wynonna returns at close to four in the morning from her extended shift, intent on casting about for an early-morning snack. 

“What did you guys even talk about for that long?” she asks Waverly incredulously when they all decide it is far past time to get some sleep. 

“I don’t really know,” Waverly says quietly, realising for the first time just how easily the two of them had connected. “Just...everything, really.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who was interested, it /was/ 1687. 
> 
> I really hope you guys liked this chapter - please take a moment to let me know below, it's always much appreciated!!
> 
> stan twitter - @rositabustiiios  
> tumblr - birositabustillos  
> ko-fi: www.ko-fi.com/alissawrites


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mutual pining is so, so real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everyone! so I hope people are still reading/enjoying this fic and that it's all as fluffy as billed so far. I do love me some (mutual) pining in a fic so that's where we're at. 
> 
> I hope you like this update and would really appreciate you letting me know your thoughts.

Although she misses the company, Waverly unabashedly falls in love with her solo mission to explore every nook and cranny of the city.

Wynonna’s shifts typically take two configurations: either she goes into work mid-morning to prepare for the lunch and early afternoon shift, or she goes to work later and returns to their room in the small hours.

She does not work every day and the balance suits them well.

As close as they are becoming, it is good to take a break from each other too.

Over the following few weeks, Waverly gets a good sense of the layout of the city and of the public transportation system.

Some of her excursions are driven by her own desire to complete a full history tour. She packs a modest lunch and sets out early one morning for a slow, meandering wander around Panepistimiou street, just to take in the splendour of some of the city’s most iconic public buildings. She makes a brief stop at the National Library and finds herself in Omonia square just in time for lunch, eating a roughly-made sandwich, and a job-lot of fruit in a blessed patch of shade. She is happy to watch the world go by, still enamoured by the hustle and bustle of a foreign city. How different it is from Purgatory, where you can often walk or drive for miles and never see a single other soul.

She ruminates for a long time on which way of life she prefers, and never truly comes to a conclusion.  

Waverly sits and reads until the sun starts to wend its way down from its seat at the toppermost point of the blue, utterly cloudless sky. Then, she makes her way to the Ottoman monuments, to the Turkish baths, content to marvel at the wide range of history all packaged so beautifully into one place.

On other days, however, she takes rather different recommendations from Nicole - who still makes time to see the sisters in the bar on at least the odd evening every week. More often, she bumps into Waverly and Wynonna at breakfast and shares a table with them if she is not already sat with her own group of impressively sporty-looking friends. Like Waverly, she has an open-ended ticket, with only the start of the academic year to draw her back home, and she seems content to linger in Greece too. She has found a crowd of other travellers here and there seems to be more than enough to keep her occupied.

Unlike Waverly and Wynonna, however, she takes longer trips out of the city, sometimes heading off for days at a time for hiking excursions. It means that Waverly does not see her nearly as much as she would like, but she does her best to content herself with the few occasions that they do get to drink beer together.

By now, Nicole has a pretty comprehensive knowledge of all the best outdoor hubs and clues Waverly in to a beautiful park which offers wonderful views of the Acropolis.

“Just Google Philopappou Hill,” she says helpfully one night. “And look into the Monastiraki flea market too.”

So Waverly does just that, and passes an entirely blissful day sunbathing atop the little hilltop park and reading an old, indulgent trashy romance novel.

Indeed, the rush to see and explore endlessly dies back, and the urge to relax and simply soak up the fine weather and sense of peace takes precedence.

She plans her free time around Wynonna’s shifts. When she works an earlier shift, they agree to part after a late breakfast and meet up again for early drinks and dinner.

On a Friday morning in mid-August, Wynonna leaves Waverly at their breakfast table just outside the small cafe adjacent to the hostel. She heads to work and they make plans to catch up in the late afternoon for something to eat. Waverly sprawls out her notes across the table and lets the overeager young server - she suspects he might be the grandson of the cafe’s owner - ply her with more herbal tea whenever she runs too low.

There had been a birthday to celebrate amongst Wynonna’s loose group of acquaintances, and both sisters had woken up very late that morning feeling a little delicate. Nicole - who had been missing from both the dining room and the bar for days - had tapped out of the party early, in need of at least some sleep for whatever overly active plans she had made. Feeling frustrated, Waverly had proceeded to drink more than enough for the both of them in Nicole’s absence.

Weeks later, and Waverly still was not brave enough to act on her attraction to Nicole.

She almost wants to give her own shoulders a good shake.

They are both young, both on vacation - both probably looking for a good time. There is no reason that Waverly should hold back. They spend just the right amount of time together that Waverly could make a move, but not so much (not half as much as Waverly would like) that it would get awkward if Nicole rejected any advances.

In truth, Waverly does not think Nicole would reject her.

She still flirts, still makes comments that make Waverly’s blood simmer (and her flirting always seems careful and deliberate, unlike Waverly who just cannot seem to keep her attraction hidden). She always sides with Waverly when either of them pretends to squabble with Wynonna. She still drinks with them, and when she can she saves spaces for them both at breakfast.

And sometimes, Nicole looks at Waverly like she is made of silk. It is as though she can see beneath Waverly’s skin and sinew to the soul she shelters deep between her ribs.

Because _oh_ , when they had talked and talked all night Waverly had never felt so seen in all her life.

In truth, she had not even felt the time pass. She had no idea that it was half so late, feeling the shock of it only when Wynonna returned and greeted them as _you two dirty stop-outs_.

Nicole had taken more interest in Waverly’s studies in one evening that anyone outside of Waverly’s family had done in years. She had asked questions, looked sheepish when some of the answers were outside of her own field of acquired knowledge.

In return, Nicole had given Waverly the gift of her own story; how her parents were resistant to her becoming a cop, how she had felt compelled to pursue the career anyway. She has been travelling before - the USA and central America - and she tells Waverly all about it. She is worldly, easygoing, _driven_. She understands what it feels like to want so badly to pursue something, even (or especially) when others do not support it.

And although there had been an obvious undercurrent between them, Nicole’s flirting had always been warm and gentle. It had never carried any overtones of pressure of expectation.

During their long, meandering conversation there was no sense that this time together came at a price, no implication that this unexpected moment of getting-to-know-you was anything but sincere. Waverly had chatted to men in bars more times than she could count - whether at work or not - and she knew the score. So many of them _expected something_. It had only gotten worse when she broke up with Champ. Local men she had barely even tolerated for years crawled out of the woodwork, feigning an interest until they realised she had no intention of sleeping with them.

Waverly hopes (and deep down, she believes) that there is genuine intent between the two of them, that perhaps there is a longing in Nicole that matches Waverly’s own. Even so, there had been no smokescreens that night. Nicole had simply wanted to speak with her, and it is only then that Waverly realises how rare an occurrence this has been in her life so far.

There had been times in the early days after her father’s death that the kids at school had feigned sympathy and interest, only to play some kind of mean turnaround a few days later. Champ had never really been interested in what she had to say and in the time before she got Wynonna back, there was only Gus and Curtis. Her aunt and uncle had cared dearly, but had worked endlessly when they took her in. They were childless by mutual consent, after all, and had not ever set aside a nest egg to raise another person. They always gave her their full attention when they could, but they went out to earn money for long, long hours at a time.

Nicole, by comparison, had seemingly had all the time in the world on that night, and she had given herself over entirely to listening and sharing in return.

Waverly had wondered afterwards, when she climbed into bed feeling as though something within her had somehow elevated, if Nicole had felt it too.

For Waverly, it had been all-but tangible, _the affinity_ between them.

It had also made it exceptionally difficult not to think about Nicole at all times, even as she was acutely aware that it was unwise to let something that should have been deemed _holiday romance_ blossom into _full-blown crush_ instead.

It was all Waverly could do _not_ to think of Nicole these days.

Even the best distractions were becoming ineffectual, but she could at least try to fall back on keeping her research notes updated. Indeed, she is hard at work in the afternoon heat when a shadow passes over her page.

She expects the server again, back with more tea, and so she looks up with a pleasant smile on her face and an easy refusal at the ready. She has probably had enough chilled lemon tea to last her the rest of the summer.

She almost starts, however, when she finds Nicole standing above her instead.

As per usual, she looks effortlessly wonderful and it gives Waverly pause.

Nicole’s short hair is gathered back into a miniscule, almost precarious ponytail at the back of her head. There seems to be more strands escaping the hair tie than there are contained within it, and this only manages to look incredibly endearing.

There is a sweet little smudge of red on the bridge of her nose, evidently from the potent heat of the day. It is not quite deep enough to be a sunburn but it is perilously close. Even so, it will probably be gone by morning, if not later that day, and Waverly makes the most of how it looks on Nicole’s pretty face.

(In short, it is oddly adorable).

She is wearing her dark navy cotton shorts again, along with a plain white tank that looks wrinkled and perhaps a little dirty in places. There are muscles for days in her shoulders and arms, and Waverly has to actively work not to cast her eyes over them for too long.

Nicole Haught is an assault on her senses, and it is all Waverly can do to look marginally composed.

Nicole looks down at Waverly with a big, beaming smile as she takes in all of the scattered sheafs of paper, littered with notes, diagrams, and other scribbles.

“A little light vacation reading?” she asks, still grinning. It is clear that she is teasing, but she does so with such good grace and aplomb that Waverly barely registers it.

Waverly smiles back, feeling a little sheepish. She is aware that this is not everyone’s idea of a good, relaxing time.

“Something like that, yeah.”

Nicole evidently thinks nothing of the choice in pastime however, and merely chuckles to herself. She seems to note the empty place opposite Waverly at the table and gently teases her once more.

“Sister abandoned you _again_ huh?”

“Working,” Waverly confirms with a little nod. In truth, she has not yet ceased to feel as though she is finding her feet around Nicole. There is always some inner voice at the back of her mind that seems to be persistently crying out for her to do or say something more charming or interesting; anything that might make an impact.

Nicole makes a show of tutting and shaking her head, keeping the gesture wildly exaggerated so that Waverly knows she is still joking.

“She doesn’t know what’s she missing,” Nicole says with a fast wink, and Waverly feels her stomach twist.

“Well since her space is empty, you don’t have to stand,” she says quickly, jerking her head at the empty chair.

“I gotta get back and shower,” Nicole explains, sitting down anyway. “A bunch of us just visited the climbing site, the outdoor one. I still only know most of the people in passing from the hostel, but it’s handy since they have the same interests. Group bookings usually work out so much better.”

Nicole grins again before adding, “I’m telling you this because although I usually just about manage to look presentable, if I look even crappier today then this is my excuse. Rock climbing - not so great on your clothes.”

The little hazy smudges on her shirt make sense now, and Waverly shakes her head.

“ _‘Presentable’_ ,” Waverly echoes with a disbelieving little scoff. “The phrase ‘selling yourself short’ comes to mind.”

Immediately after the words leave her mouth, Waverly’s heart flies into her throat. She had not meant to vocalise any such thought, no matter how much she means it.

Of course, Waverly understands what Nicole had been getting at. She does not seem the kind of person to dress fancy, except when compelled to do so. She seems most at home when she is dressed down and would probably be the kind of person who felt anything more would be something of a façade. But this did not mean that Nicole ever looked anywhere near bland enough as to be described as only _presentable._

In fact, she is the epitome of a sort of effortless, laid back confidence and attractiveness that came not from wearing a particular style of clothing but from inhabiting your own body with a complete and uninhibited sense of ease.

Nicole always looks good, and Waverly was far from the only person to notice it. In fact, she was perhaps a little too aware that Nicole turned heads.

That was something more than a style or a look; it was magnetism, and Nicole had it in spades.

Nonetheless, in response to Waverly’s comment, Nicole pulls an expression of modest, gentle disbelief. She does not, however, say anything more, apparently deeming this one look response enough.

“Agree to disagree then?” Waverly manages to say, sounding pleasingly coy enough to her own ears when the words come out. In fact, she is simply grateful that she collects herself quickly enough to say anything at all.

“I think we’ll have to,” Nicole replies, a playful glint in her lovely brown eyes. “Anyway, very sweet and undeserved compliments aside, me and my fellow climbers are gonna head out for an evening bike tour thingy - ”

“Because half a day’s physical exertion in the sweltering heat of a Mediterranean summer isn’t enough, right?” Waverly butts in, raising her eyebrows.

This earns a ringing, genuine laugh from Nicole, who tips her head back and exposes the seemingly ever-pale skin of her throat. The gesture has Waverly’s stomach somersaulting wonderfully.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Nicole says and laughs again. “But in all seriousness, apparently it’s a great way to check out the city and it’s even marginally less dangerous once the rush hour traffic dies down. You could always join us, if you’re at a loose end?”

Waverly pulls a face. “Much as I never normally turn down activities billed to me as ‘marginally’ safe, I actually told Wynonna I’d meet her for dinner and I probably shouldn’t bail.”

As awful as it sounds, Waverly does consider it for a moment. Wynonna probably wouldn’t care, and it would be nice to be in Nicole’s orbit in a setting outside of the hostel. Something tells her that Nicole is a lot of fun.

Nicole laughs again, that same deep, resounding laugh. It leaves Waverly wishing to be funny enough to draw the sound between the two of them over and over.

“Probably not,” Nicole says, and she almost sounds genuinely disappointed.

Feeling cautious, however, Waverly puts it down to wishful thinking on her part. She wouldn’t be surprised if she was so far gone around this woman that she was at the point of hearing things.

They hold each other’s gaze for a moment in a soft, odd silence that probably should feel awkward but in fact feels warm and comfortable.

“I really should go and get ready,” Nicole says regretfully after a moment, before letting her eyes drift over all of Waverly’s notes. “This really is very impressive, you know.”

Waverly is quick to shake her head. “Not at all, but thank you.”

Nicole grins, wry and playful.

“Huh. The phrase ‘selling yourself short’ comes to mind.”

Waverly tries to shoot a withering look across the table, but finds herself biting the insides of her cheeks against a smile.

“Very quick, smartass.”

But in truth, Nicole’s expression is more than just a self-satisfied smirk at having used Waverly’s own words against her. The smile shifts gradually and genuinely, like she is truly impressed by all the things Waverly knows about the city’s history. She seems quiet and contemplative, looking over at Waverly in the most open, unguarded way possible.

“It’s shameful,” Nicole says softly, ignoring Waverly’s retort. “I’ve done barely any of the historical spots here. I haven’t even braved it up there. Too many crowds - sort of feels like it ruins the ambiance.” She indicates with a jerk of her head, gesturing at the outline of the Acropolis, almost always visible wherever they are in the city.

“You should go,” Waverly says, unconsciously picking up on Nicole’s subdued mood and speaking quietly in return. “Not necessarily the Parthenon but there are lots of places. You could even try somewhere like the temple of Poseidon. I haven’t been yet and, disclaimer, it _is_ a bit of a trek out of the city. It’s in Sounio - there’s a lovely beach and some nice open spaces. Maybe it would be more your thing?”

Nicole nods, listening carefully. “I’ll definitely look it up later, although I’m sure all the smart stuff will go over my head.”

“No smart stuff needed, although I think you’re plenty smart. Just wanting to be amongst history does the trick.”

Again, Nicole smiles. “I like that. I like the way you make history sound.”

Waverly returns the grin, feeling perhaps a little self-conscious. “Thanks.”

There is another moment of easy silence before Nicole checks the time on her phone and pulls a face.

“I really do have to leave, I’m sorry.”

Before she stands, she snags a spare pen off the table and reaches for a balled up piece of paper Waverly had torn out of her notebook because she made an error.

Nicole writes something on the wrinkled sheet and slides it to Waverly, who sees a phone number on the page.

“If you’re at a loose end again and want some company,” Nicole explains gently. “No pressure - only if you want to.”

“I’ll call,” Waverly says carefully, _seriously_ , and it makes Nicole beam. “Or text. Definitely.”

Nicole goes to leave, but comes to an abrupt halt as if suddenly remembering something.

“I meant to ask. Any news yet? On the degree funding?”

Waverly gives her a grim look. “Not yet, and no news is _not_ good news.”

“Ah. Well have faith,” Nicole says sympathetically. “I know I do. And hey, I meant it - I’ll buy you a drink either way. Plus, now you have no excuse not to tell me right away. Only after family. And good friends. And anyone else you know remotely well. But put me to the top of the list marked strangers, yeah?”

Nicole says this with a laugh, gesturing at where she has written her phone number.

“You’re not a stranger,” Waverly says quickly, and the words echo in her ears when they come out all wrong.

It had meant to just be a simple, light reassurance but that is not how she makes it sound. The words weigh far too much as they settle in the air between them.

It is strange, really, because in truth they have not yet known each other all that long but, between Nicole’s ongoing verbal competition with Wynonna and the feelings she stirs up in Waverly’s belly with a simple look, Nicole does not _feel_ like a stranger.

“Good to know,” Nicole says quietly, voice just as heavy and tone just as laden. Then, as if to shift the strange atmosphere she adds, “just so long as you tell me about the funding.”

Waverly makes a valiant attempt at a casual smile. “Of course. Thanks for asking about it.”

“Not at all, enjoy your dinner.”

“Enjoy your bike ride, and for the love of God please don’t die in a traffic accident.”

Nicole chuckles. “I’ll do my best Waverly.”

 

 

 

 

 

“What did you do today?” Wynonna asks, trying ineffectually to contend with an almost unholy amount of melted cheese as it slides around on her slice of pizza. In the end she eschews all sense of propriety and simply takes an enormous bite, wiping at her chin when a thin string sticks out over her bottom lip.

“Not much,” Waverly says with a quick shrug. She had picked the pasta, and was having a much easier time of it with the little shells.

They are at Wynonna’s place of work, a sports bar that makes a rather half-hearted attempt as some kind of gimmicky façade. It has fake memorabilia on the walls, and at least five different LCD TVs, all seemingly showing different sports matches.

It is obvious that the bar markets itself at groups of tourists but it seems to pay well and lets Wynonna order food for close to no charge at all. In the interests of keeping costs down, it makes sense for them meet here and eat. Plus, the chef always makes something for Waverly at Wynonna’s request - which they both very much appreciate.

Wynonna raises an eyebrow. “Care to elucidate?”

“Literally just didn’t do much,” Waverly reiterates. “I stayed at the cafe, just getting some work done and people-watching. It was nice to relax. Nicole stopped by for a chat. It was all very peaceful Wyn, not cagey.”

“How is Haught these days?”

“Fine, I assume,” Waverly says, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. She would bet good money that Wynonna hasn’t yet caught on to her feelings, but she does think that Wynonna has started to clue in to Nicole’s flirting. It seems to be pre-programmed big sister behaviour. “She seemed happy enough. She was calling into the hostel to change between unpleasantly exertion-based activities.”

“Yeah she sure doesn’t stop,” Wynonna says with a grimace. “Sporty weirdo.”

“I’ll be sure to tell her you think so,” Waverly teases, chewing at the end of her fork.

Wynonna affects an air of offence. “And deprive me of the satisfaction? You wouldn’t dare.”

Waverly pulls a disinterested expression.

“I’m happy letting you be the mean one in this trio.”

Wynonna snorts. “Wouldn’t want to fall out of favour.”

Waverly pauses, fork dug into her mountain of pasta and tomato sauce. There is nothing churlish in Wynonna’s tone, she is not striking a blow at Waverly, but it is clear that she is trying to drive a point home.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen you two together. Don’t pretend you don’t love it when she sides with you. It’s like you’re best friends all of a sudden.” Wynonna teases, poking at Waverly’s shin under the table with the toe of her boot. She laughs when Waverly pretends to scuffle back.  

“What can I say? You’re just so fun to wind up.”

Wynonna ignores her. “You’ll be wearing friendship bracelets next.”

Waverly rolls her eyes, but her heart has started thudding in her chest.

Unperturbed, Wynonna continues and pitches her voice in a babying tone.

“Those old heart necklaces that split down the middle with ‘ _best_ ’ written on one and ‘ _friend_ ’ on the other.”

“You’re _so funny_.”

“You’ll be braiding each other’s hair on your late-night chats soon.”

Wynonna goes on, listing increasingly absurd high school best friend activities, eventually giving a deliberately out of pitch rendition of the opening bars of _Best Friend_ à la S Club. Waverly wants to laugh or play along, but she can feel the blush on her cheeks and knows that if she opens her mouth she will almost certainly put her foot straight into it. She settles instead on a steely glower and Wynonna’s boot pokes at her again under the table.

“ _Relax_ , I’m kidding. It’s good that you guys get on. She’s actually alright - cooler than the assholes you got stuck with in your grade in Purgatory. But if you dare tell her I said that I’m packing you off on the next flight home.”

“I’ll keep your damn secret if you cut it out with the bad jokes.”

Wynonna grins. “You got yourself a deal kid. Just, you know, I’m pretty sure she’s interested in more ways than one so just be careful I guess.”

Wynonna says this in a conspiratorial way, as if Nicole’s flirting hadn’t been as visible as a boat flare in the dead of night. She says it, bless her heart, as though she has worked out something that had ever been well hidden in the first place.

Waverly frowns. “Why be careful?”

“I just wouldn’t want things to get weird between you two if you didn’t realise.”

Waverly’s heart redoubles its efforts to beat clean out of her chest. She could say it, right now.

It hovers on the tip of her tongue. _Well, who says I’m not interested_?

It would be that easy.

Wynonna wouldn’t even _care_.

She could do it right now.

It would be a huge weight off her mind; the last big secret between Waverly and her sister.

“Aren’t you friends with dudes?” she says instead, feeling disappointed in herself for chickening out. “Isn’t that a thing that’s possible for you?”

“Absolutely not,” Wynonna says solemnly. “I make a point _never_ to be friends with them.”

“ _Wynonna_ . Not every lesbian has to like every girl she sees. _If_ Nicole’s even gay. I think you’re probably just reading too much into it.” Waverly knows as soon as the words are out of her mouth that she sounds as though she is trying too hard to put Wynonna off the scent, which, of course, is precisely what she is doing.

“Alright, alright. _Grouch_. You don’t have to go all equal rights on me. I’m not saying it for that and you know it. I just think it would be a shame if you guys ever crossed your wires, you know? Since you’re getting on so well.”

 

 

 

 

 

A few moments after the conversation peters out, Waverly’s curiosity gets the better of her.

“I mean, you really think she’s interested?”

Wynonna just looks at Waverly carefully for a moment before shaking her head to herself.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Bad news dude,” Wynonna says one morning, emerging from the bathroom looking suspicously un-showered. “The shower’s gone kaput. No water when I turn it on, just a horrifying demon noise. We’ll have to go use the shared ones.”

Still in bed, Waverly sighs and stretches. It is no huge imposition really, but she has rather enjoyed the luxury of an en suite just for the two of them. It beats waiting in line and knowing that you have to wash your hair in double-time to make sure nobody else gets too impatient. She always leaves shampoo at her hairline when she rushes.  

“Okay, let me just get my stuff together.”

 

 

 

 

 

Wynonna sends Waverly off ahead with directions, offering to go to reception and report the fault.

Waverly expects to meet long lines for the ladies’ showers, but instead finds that she can go straight through into the wetroom. She has not had cause to use any of the public bathrooms except for the toilets at the bar, and finds a remarkably spacious little room with décor that is functional and was, probably, quite in vogue in the eighties.

Still, it suffices. Other women seem to have left their toiletry bags on a little ledge by the sink and Waverly decides to follow their lead. If anyone is in a thieving mood the best they’ll get is a bamboo toothbrush and a half-empty bottle of foundation that she only uses for the SPF.

She just about catches her own reflection in the steamed up mirror and cannot resist the temptation of drawing a little heart in the mist in one corner. Immediately, the image distorts as condensation trickles downwards from the heart’s outline.

That particular itch scratched, she turns and finds all but one shower stall occupied.

The hostel has, throughout her stay, been eminently clean and well-maintained, but she elects nonetheless to remain in her shower shoes and wash as quickly as is humanly possible.

As she locks herself inside and slings the towel over the door, she wonders if perhaps people had deliberately avoided what they thought might be a popular time and instead inadvertently created a rush during the rest of the morning.

There is something about being in a shared shower room that gives rise to an odd sense insecurity, even as she is content that the little door locks well and has no gaps between the frame.

She piles her hair up high on her head - it is long and she can avoid washing it every day, even in this heat - and contents herself to listen to the absent humming of someone on the other side of the room.

In this weather, a warm shower should be unpleasant but the feeling of a hot blast of water and the slide of soap suds down her arms is always a joy. She lets her mind wander, mentally mapping out how to spend her day.

The person next to her switches the water off and she hears the slither of their towel being pulled off the door.

Content to be clean and smelling of cheap passion fruit shower gel, she follows their lead.

The little rigamarole of trying to dry and dress whilst standing on wet tiles follows, and for the first time Waverly finds herself glad that she does not do this every day. She is perhaps a little too fond of her luxuries to be a proper traveller.

That is, assuming you could call wandering around her and Wynonna’s room with her towel on a luxury.

And, in this instance, she did.

In the time it takes her to dress, someone leaves another stall and someone else (Waverly assumes it is Wynonna) takes their spot. Waverly’s neighbour, who seems to be mostly in sync with her, unlocks her door right before Waverly, who emerges a moment later and instantly finds herself face-to-face with -

“Oh, Nicole. Hey.”

Nicole blinks, evidently trying to work out why this interaction feels so out of place. Then, it clicks.

“Don’t you guys have an en suite? Or am I imagining things?”

“The shower’s busted,” Waverly says with a grimace.

“Ah, I see,” Nicole says gravely. “So you’re slumming it with us, huh?” She gives Waverly’s shoulder a playful nudge with her own as, unspoken, they both move towards the sinks at the same time.

She laughs beautifully when she sees Waverly struggle for a comeback. “You’re fine, I’m only joking. Good morning, by the way - I sort of skipped that part.”

“You’re so lucky my brain doesn’t work until at least two hours after I’ve woken up,” Waverly mumbles, sullen at having once again been left without a comeback. She knows Nicole would never really laugh _at_ her, but she is always so cool and collected and she makes this stuff seem so simple. Perhaps it is the cop in her.

But for Waverly it isn’t simple, not when she cannot stop thinking about approaching Nicole on one of their nights together at the bar. And yet, she still cannot bring herself to do it.

It does not help in the present moment, either, that Nicole is dressed in a pair of black athletic shorts - probably her pyjamas - and an unfairly tight racerback. Her skin is still pink on her neck and shoulders from the heat of the shower and her hair is damp and feathery where she has taken the worst of the wetness out with the towel.

Already, it has started curling slightly and it looks as wonderful as ever.

Completely unaware that Waverly is in crisis, thinking that she might be the most beautiful woman she has ever seen, Nicole smiles, easy as anything.

“There, you see? I have the unfair advantage.”

Waverly feels herself relax a little.  “Ugh. Y’know, I should have placed money on you being one of _those_.”  

They stand at neighbouring sinks and start rummaging through their washbags.

“A morning person?” Nicole asks, one eyebrow arching up playfully as she casts a sideways glance at Waverly .

“What?! I’ve just never been any good at functioning first thing.”  

This is the truth but it also a handy excuse. Because as hard as it normally is to get herself towards any cogent thought in the morning, Waverly’s brain is kicking into overdrive now in the most inconvenient of ways.

She tries not to think about it all as she stands beside Nicole while they both brush their teeth.

Waverly really, really tries.

But in the end, she cannot actually help it. The thought that it had been Nicole showering next to her has a surprisingly strong effect.

She has rarely had thoughts like these in the past. It feels vaguely intrusive, even as she actively makes a point to keep it respectful.

It was not that she needed confirmation that she liked girls (college had already done that) or that she liked Nicole specifically (that was kind of never in doubt), but if she were looking for a sign then surely this was it.

She tries not to consider it, but the image is there anyway; the steam of the shower shrouding Nicole ever so slightly, her pale skin glowing pink beneath a stream of water, Nicole with her eyes closed as her muscles ease, Nicole sweeping her hands through her hair to slick it back from her face…

“Any grand plans for today?” Nicole asks, washing her toothbrush up. Waverly feels a blush on her cheeks and hopes that Nicole will think it is from the heat of the bathroom.

“No idea yet,” Waverly admits, sending the question back to Nicole.

“I was planning on grabbing some food from the kitchen and heading out. Do you know Vrahakia?”

The name tugs at the edges of Waverly’s awareness but she cannot connect any dots. Wordlessly, she shakes her head.

“It’s at the top of one of the nearby hills. You get this amazing view of the city and it’s not as crowded as some of the other places. I thought it would be better than eating breakfast indoors in the kitchen. I’m heading there on my own once I’ve changed properly. You and your sister could come, if you want.”

As Waverly goes to reply, Wynonna’s voice rings out from one of the stalls, confirming Waverly’s suspicion that she had entered before and making her jump in the process.

“I don’t hike before breakfast.”

“Do you hike at any time?” Nicole asks, pretending to sound innocent.

“Don’t get cute with me Haught.”

“I’m always cute, it can’t be helped.”

Wynonna makes a gagging noise but otherwise refrains from responding.

(Privately, Waverly is more inclined to agree with Nicole than with Wynonna on this one.)

“What about you?” Nicole asks, waiting patiently for Waverly to pack her things into her washbag.

Waverly pauses, torn and unwilling to simply abandon Wynonna.

“I can hear you thinking,” Wynonna calls. “Just go, I’ll meet you in a bit. I want to make sure they fix the shower anyway.”

Without speaking, Waverly looks at Nicole and they both smile.

 

 

 

 

 

They part in the corridor and reconvene barely fifteen minutes later at the ever-bustling kitchen counter. Waverly arrives first and snags some fruit for both of them from the comprehensive selection, including what appears to be a lot of local produce.

They use one of Nicole’s little canvas shopping bags to fill with oranges, figs, dates, and a few bananas.

Waverly takes a little single-serve dairy free yoghurt and Nicole helps herself to a bread roll and some cheese. They pack up their impromptu little picnic and Nicole liberates a spoon with a wink.

“That’s not very cop-like behaviour, you know,” Waverly says mock-seriously.

Nicole bites her top teeth into her lip against a smile and Waverly feels her stomach swoop when the gesture looks unintentionally sultry.

“We can actually requisition essential items if our need is great enough.”

“I feel like you’re making that up,” Waverly says, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.  

“Temporarily steal a spoon? Sure,” Nicole says with a shrug, tossing the offending cutlery in with the fruit. “But lie to a beautiful girl? I resent even the suggestion.”

She grins down at Waverly as they head up from the basement kitchen and towards the ground floor.

Their faces are close as they walk together on the narrow staircase and Nicole’s smile is impish and beautiful.

In comparison, Waverly feels like a fish that has been landed and is gasping for breath. Far be it from Waverly to use an improper metaphor but that is how it feels to be with Nicole; like all the oxygen has been stolen from her lungs.

 

 

 

 

 

“I bet it would be amazing to see the sunrise from here,” Waverly says, breaking her orange segments apart on a stolen napkin and pulling off all the fuzzy white tendrils. They have found a little spot where the grass is not too dried out and sat themselves down to eat.

“It is,” Nicole confirms, flashing a cheeky smile. “But you’d have to be a morning person for that.”

“Touché, wise guy.”

Nicole does not retort and in companionable, wonderful silence they sit together atop the hill and watch the city come alive.

Waverly thinks how she would actually consider early mornings if it meant seeing the sunrise with Nicole. But sunrise or not, for once everything is, without a doubt, utterly perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long can these two lovestruck nerds string it out? I guess we'll see!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been following this and my San Junipero AU, I really appreciate all your feedback. Please let me know if you're sticking with this one and how you're finding it - it really does help so much with my ongoing fics and it sort of makes me feel less anxious about my writing. 
> 
> If not, come chat!   
> Stan twitter: @rositabustiiios  
> tumblr: birositabustillos  
> ko-fi: www.ko-fi.com/alissawrites
> 
> See you all next week - take care!! And if you're in the USA enjoy the holidays


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole and Waverly are so close and yet so far...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> It's time for some fluff to counteract all the angst in san junipero!
> 
> I don't really have much to add except to say thank you for everyone's kind words and that I'm hoping there will be a Christmas thing to come some time in December.
> 
> I really hope you enjoy the update, please let me know what you think!

As the summer drifts by, Waverly grows more accustomed to spending time with Nicole.

It doesn’t get easier, per sé, that little tingling feeling between her ribs, but she learns how to contend with it well enough. 

It flares up every time they are together, and in some ways it is a pleasant feeling (she has not really had a crush in a long, long time) but it also becomes an insistent distraction too. 

Sometimes the feeling is so strong that she cannot concentrate properly on what Nicole is saying, or cannot seem to make her mouth work well enough carry along a conversation. 

Indeed, it almost feels as though she will burst with the weight of wishing and wanting. 

But in truth, she is not actually entirely sure what it is that she really wants. 

Undoubtedly, she has thought on it long enough to know that she wants Nicole Haught’s hands everywhere, pretty much at once. Ideally, she would like Nicole lips on her own, or trailing over her throat while Nicole undresses her and explores every inch of skin on Waverly’s body. 

She has never slept with a woman - although that night at college had skated close, and they were hindered only by the fact that they were both really rather drunk. In a way, the idea terrifies Waverly, because she does not really know what to do in a practical sense. Of course, she has considered the theory a  _ lot _ . Not just regarding Nicole, but more generally too; often with her hand moving between her legs…

But as terrifying as it is, it is the kind of fear that is mingled with excitement and anticipation and she kind of wants all of that with Nicole.

Because Nicole is beautiful and tall, and she has muscles in her thighs that make Waverly desirous in two ways (she wants those thighs for herself but also, she  _ wants  _ those thighs). Nicole has soft skin and sinfully lovely-looking long fingers, and she carries herself with a confidence that does nothing short of making those around her swoon. 

Wynonna had made it clear that she wanted Waverly to have fun - not least because her own on/off hookup was decidedly switched back to ‘on’ recently, and Waverly had been forced to vacate their shared room far more often than she would like. 

(She can hardly complain, however, because Wynonna is covering so much of the financial burden of the trip, and because Waverly does not really begrudge her having fun. Rather, her pretend complaints are all part of the sisters’ jovial back-and-forth).

And of course, Wynonna is all bluster - in more ways than one. She is mostly joking and never genuinely pushing any boundaries that Waverly would not want pushed. A holiday hook-up had been so far from Waverly’s mind as she packed her bag and prepared to set out on her journey from Purgatory. 

But fun with Nicole…

Waverly had been thinking about it a lot, even as she questioned whether she would ever have the guts to instigate such a thing.

Nicole is beautiful. She could have anyone she wanted.

And although she still flirts and although she still looks at Waverly like something behind her eyes is on fire, Waverly could not entirely shake the self doubt deep beneath her skin. It had been winding itself like barbed wire around her bones for years now. Most people in her life had left her - they had simply not cared enough to stay - and people like Champ had never desired her in a way that made her feel like it meant something more. 

There was, Waverly had learned over two decades, something different between being desired and being wanted. Perhaps sometimes people could feel both towards another person, but she had never knowingly felt the latter from a partner. 

Nicole is worth every star in the sky but despite the constant hints, Waverly does not trust that someone like her could truly be interested.

And still, there was more to it than that. 

Because Nicole starts saving vegan yoghurt pots for Waverly if the hostel is running low and sometimes she makes Waverly cups of tea in the morning or saves a seat for her at the bar at night. Often, she does not even know if Waverly is going to be there, she just does those little things anyway.  

She continues to check for news of Waverly’s PhD. She asks questions about Greek history simply because Waverly knows the answer and she gets this little look on her face whenever Waverly shares some of her knowledge. It is hard for Waverly to really pinpoint what it is, that expression on Nicole’s face, but it sits somewhere between admiration and reverence, and it makes Waverly’s stomach twist.  

(This is where the penny should drop, perhaps. This is where her self-doubts should melt away. But it doesn’t work like that, not initially.) 

In fact, Nicole makes so many little gestures that Waverly grows worried that the way she feels about Nicole does not align particularly well with the concept of  _ holiday fun _ .

Of course, she is under no illusions that anything more could ever happen between them, and she thinks it would sting too much to have a taste and lose it again when one of them finally leaves for home.

But then again, ‘home’ - as it turns out after another long, late-night conversation - is only one city apart…

All the same, Waverly quickly convinces herself that there is no chance of  _ that _ . In spite of everything, Waverly truly believes that Nicole could never want something enduring with someone like  _ her _ .

Instead, she tries to content herself with everything else, even if they still do not see each other much outside the hostel, mostly because Waverly is still too self-conscious to ask.

Nicole is fun and she makes Waverly laugh, just like Wynonna does.

Indeed, it helps that Wynonna manages to blag some extra time off in mid-July and they revert to their initial  _ modus operandi _ of spending time together exploring the city and the surrounding area. 

They start making video calls back home together, and Waverly makes a habit of sending regular photos and updates to her family message group, although Curtis rarely switches his cell phone on most of the time.  

Regardless, the pictures always receive a warm reception, and she can feel her aunt and uncle’s happiness (Gus always shows Curtis the messages over dinner) down the phone. In fact, Gus even grows a little misty-eyed when Waverly and Wynonna call her for the first time together. 

It is odd for Waverly to have switched frames; she is far more accustomed to sharing a screen with Gus in order to speak with Wynonna, rather than the other way around.

It must be odd for Gus too, Waverly supposes. 

“You don’t know how much joy it gives me,” she says, voice thick as Curtis pats her awkwardly on the shoulder, “seeing both of you girls together like that.” 

Her aunt is usually so stoic and proud, and it is strange to see her so overcome. 

“You look happy, love,” Curtis says to fill Gus’ silence. 

“I am,” Waverly says, beaming. “I really am.” 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After a week filled with excursions out of the city, Wynonna and Waverly are heading out for an evening within the city limits when they both quite literally bump into Nicole as she treks up the stairs towards the hostel’s front door.

She has her canvas bag with her, full of groceries, and seems to be in a pleasant little world of her own. 

“Sorry,” she says, glancing up and letting her expression shift when she sees that she has not knocked into two complete strangers. 

“That’s okay,” Waverly replies brightly, right as Wynonna says tartly,

“Well watch where you’re going then.”

Happily, it makes Nicole laugh. Waverly still loves that sound. 

“Two kinds of people,” she observes with a grin, eyes darting between the sisters in turn. 

“Yeah,” Wynonna agrees. “Cool and not cool.” 

She indicates with her thumb between herself at the former, and Waverly at the latter. It is almost impressive really, that Wynonna and Nicole fall into their standardised back-and-forth so seamlessly. 

In fact, it makes Waverly feel something that she cannot quite put her finger on. It is not entirely pleasant, but not something so insidious as jealousy; of that she is completely sure. Perhaps it is something close to ‘deflated’, though, the way that Wynonna is so adamant that Nicole is  _ interested _ in Waverly but the quick-witted rapport between Wynonna and Nicole is so easy and natural. 

They are not two exclusives states - Waverly  _ knows _ that. But she just wishes she could have Wynonna’s easy confidence around Nicole, instead of finding herself with her heart in the throat so often that it blocks out half the words she wants to say. 

Or, at least, that is how it feels to Waverly even as Nicole smoothly includes Waverly in all her pretend arguments with Wynonna. 

“No, that’s not it at all. It’s: nice person,” Nicole says, looking deeply and pointedly at Waverly, “and asshole.” She proceeds to fix a steely glare in Wynonna’s direction. 

Wynonna gives an obstinate shake of her head. “You’re so wrong Haught and you don’t even know it.” 

Unperturbed, Nicole just shrugs before dropping the pretend argument. “Where are you guys off to anyway?”

“Nowhere, just avoiding you,” Wynonna teases, but relents when Nicole rolls her eyes. “You used to be  _ fun _ , Haught. But since you asked, they’re doing one of the parties up on that hill, Lofos somethingorother.”

Nicole stares at her impassively for a long, silent moment.

“Super useful, thanks Earp,” she says, delivery impressively deadpan before she turns to Waverly for further clarification. 

“It’s called Lofos Strefi,” Waverly supplies, shaking her head at both of them. “Apparently the organised parties up there are a regular fixture in the summer. You should come, if you’re not up to much else tonight.” 

In truth, she knows that Nicole is probably free tonight. 

In past weeks, many of her super-sporty friends had peeled off; some drawn back home through lack of funds or impending work and school commitments. Others had tickets to move on elsewhere, and something insecure in the back of Waverly’s mind had thought Nicole might leave too. 

It was perhaps the only thing that made her question her reluctance to make a move; the fact that Nicole’s presence here was not a given, and certainly not to be taken for granted. 

But Nicole had stuck around, telling Waverly one night that she had flexible tickets and liked it here enough to stay a little while longer.

“There’s some pretty cool stuff here to stay for,” she had said, following it up with an odd look that Waverly tries not to overthink for days afterwards.

And while Nicole seems more than content with her own independence and her own company (she had gone travelling on her own in the first place, after all), it must be a bit of a downer to switch from making a group of friends to going solo again. 

If asked, this would be the excuse Waverly would give for suddenly choosing to invite Nicole out with them. It has nothing to do with praying fervently that fate will intervene if she only engineers enough excuses for them to spend time together. She is, deep down, silently begging Nicole to make the first move.  

It is absurd, but Waverly’s heart thuds in her chest as she watches Nicole consider the offer. If she says ‘no’ it could mean a hundred things; that she is tired or feeling unwell, that she simply doesn’t feel like going out to party to tonight. But it might also mean that she has no express desire to see Waverly outside of their designated ‘hostel time’, and that is a truly horrible thought.

“I’m actually pretty beat,” Nicole says thoughtfully, “but I don’t want to waste the evening. I could definitely come by for a while, especially since you guys are going. I’ll sort myself out - have a shower, grab a snack - and meet you there, yeah?” 

“Yeah, sure,” Waverly says quickly, voice perhaps a little higher than normal. She mentally chides herself. She has no cause to be so nervous. “Only if you want to, obviously. Not trying to force you to change your plans.” 

Nicole dismisses Waverly’s words with a little shake of her head, but she flashes an odd look at Waverly for her nervous tone. “No plans, nothing to worry about. Honest. I’ll be an hour, maybe less.” 

“Well, we’ll look out for you,” Waverly replies, words still a little fast and staccato. 

“You have my number,” Nicole points out with an easy laugh. “You can just call me.” 

Waverly feels a blush creep up her neck. “Oh yeah. Of course.” 

Nicole gives her another long, probing look before excusing herself with a promise to see the sisters shortly. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the way to the bus stop, Wynonna keeps sending looks in Waverly’s direction. 

Obstinately, Waverly refuses to turn her head and meet Wynonna’s eye. 

“Are you okay?” Wynonna asks, tone laced with suspicion - arguably more at Waverly’s cagey behaviour than at the interaction that had preceded it. 

“Of course,” Waverly says far too quickly, still deliberately looking at the sidewalk. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“I don’t know,” Wynonna says, sounding amused. “I really don’t sometimes, babygirl.” 

 

 

 

 

 

True to her word, Nicole calls by soon enough. She happens to spot Wynonna and Waverly at the bar, and gives them a wave as she approaches. 

The sisters are already five or six people deep and nearly ready to be served, so Nicole stands off to one side and shouts-slash-mimes her order. 

Waverly tips a thumbs up to show she understands, before shaking her head as Nicole visibly tries to find some coins to cover the cost.  

When Waverly eventually extricates herself from the crush - triumphant with her drinks in hand - they briefly negotiate whether Nicole needs to pay for her own beer or not. 

“I’m not going to take it,” Waverly says, pushing Nicole’s outstretched hand away gently. Even this second of skin on skin is like a shock to the system. 

“You got the last round two nights ago,” Nicole says, giving Waverly a look of mock exasperation. Over the weeks, Waverly has worked out that Nicole is generous by nature, but also that she does not like to feel that she owes others anything.

“Then you can get the next couple,” Waverly says with a shrug. 

“If you’ll actually let me,” Nicole says with a pout.

“ _ So _ dramatic.”

Nicole laughs. “Pot. Kettle. Black.” 

Appearing beside Waverly with her own drink, Wynonna groans loudly to herself.

“You’re both as bad as each other.”

“That’s actually precisely what she’s saying, Wyn.” 

“Oh my God  _ stop siding with each other. _ ” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They had come to the party with little idea of what to expect, but quickly learn that it is more of a rave: strobe lights and loud, pulsing trance music. 

It is still good fun, and absolutely something Waverly would not have experienced under any other circumstances. 

That being said, however, they feel a little separate from all of the real action and stand around accordingly, having no express desire to get caught up in the writhing pit of unabashed dancers. 

Wynonna disappears briefly to the bathrooms and comes back nearly twenty minutes later with shots, although neither Waverly nor Nicole can fathom how she managed to carry the little plastic containers without spilling all of the alcohol when she was jostled from side to side in the crowds. 

“It’s an important skill that requires a lot of practice,” Wynonna shouts over the music with a deliberate air of superiority when Nicole asks the question. 

Nicole says nothing in response, just tosses back her shot without a second thought. 

She does not even flinch, and Wynonna drops the tough-guy act long enough to be sincerely and vocally impressed. 

Her own shot goes down in much the same fashion.

Nicole, however, ignores Wynonna in favour of keeping her gaze fixed on Waverly. It is a bold gesture that seems to surpass any show of flirtation that has gone before it. Sure, some of Nicole’s comments have been more obvious and some of her stray touches have been like a match on Waverly’s skin. But within that look, it is as though Waverly can see something dancing behind Nicole’s eyes, something like intent and desire and  _ wanting _ all mingled into one. 

As ever, the words don’t come to Waverly. Nor do actions. She wants to say or do something suave, but there is nothing that feels entirely satisfactory when Nicole Haught is staring at her like that. Instead, she simply feels the blush spread on her cheeks as she struggles to look away. 

In truth, she does not want to. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Eventually she remembers to drink her own shot, and only prays that she doesn’t cough as the cheap vodka burns her throat. It feels like the rest of her already does; like there are flames scalding her from the inside out).

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nicole is evidently tipsy when she leans in to speak, and Waverly is much more than buzzed herself. 

She is still reeling from the fire in Nicole’s eyes when Nicole says, 

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry that I -”

“It’s not that,” Waverly says quickly, feeling her cheeks grow hotter still. “ _ Definitely _ not that.” 

“No?” Nicole says, quirking an eyebrow in a very direct, if unspoken, question.

“No,” Waverly echoes, eyes fixed on the devilsome grin painted all over Nicole’s face.

Waverly swallows hard, watching as Nicole’s eyes track to her throat for the briefest of moments.

“I’m going to keep that in mind Ms Earp.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

_ This must surely be the night _ . 

Waverly tells herself this on about six separate occasions, but still Nicole does not make a further move. 

They drink a little more, but Waverly thinks that if anything is to happen between her and Nicole tonight, then she does not want to be too drunk to make something of it. 

But even so, as dark falls nothing further passes. The trio drink and dance a little on the sidelines; they fool around and make each other laugh. But Nicole does not flirt so overtly again. 

Perhaps she is hesitant to push while Wynonna is present, or perhaps she has taken Waverly’s persistent nerves and hesitation as a sign that she should let Waverly make the first move. 

But whatever the reason, Nicole does not try to kiss her and, eventually, they all three of them agree it is time to head back to the hostel.

The party crowd here is decidedly young, and most of them are already far too wasted to make the rave an enjoyable venue any longer. 

“But we’re drinking at the bar like normal, right?” Wynonna asks with an endearing level of concern as they begin to make their unsteady way down the hill. It gets treacherous the further they walk, as the bright lights of the party get swallowed up by indigo darkness. 

Waverly stumbles on some loose rocks, and from either side both Nicole and Wynonna reach out to grab her hand. They continue walking like that and Waverly does not want to let go of either of them. 

Waverly says nothing, waiting for Nicole’s answer. 

After a moment, the other woman laughs. “ _ Obviously _ we are.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waverly sits close to Nicole on the bus back, delighted by the feel of their bodies pressing together, and captivated at the way the city lights reflect in Nicole’s lovely brown eyes as they speed along.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The party extends for a long time once they get back to the bar and, as has been the arrangement for a while, Wynonna’s ‘friend’ is waiting for her with a tumbler of something neat on the rocks. The dude - tall, handsome, dark hair and eyes - is friendly enough and so far as Waverly can tell, he and Wynonna seem to have a tentatively decent rapport outside of the obvious  _ activities _ they share.

Nicole, who may or may not be aware of the nature of Wynonna’s arrangement, eventually becomes the first one to duck out - but only after several hours sat at the table beside Waverly. 

“You used to stay until the party ended,” Wynonna points out in an accusatory way, effect shattered slightly by the way her words are ever so slightly slurred. “You’ve really changed for the worst.” 

Nicole just chuckles, rising from her seat in a slightly unsteady manner, although she is easily the most composed of them all. 

“Like the rest of you are going to manage much longer.” 

Wynonna points a finger in Nicole’s rough direction. “I resent that.” 

“The truth hurts Earp,” Nicole says, making as if to leave on that very note. At the last minute, however, she tips a wink to Waverly as she walks away.

There is an odd mix of emotions in Waverly’s belly as she watches Nicole leave. She is giddy (from the wink specifically and more generally from the prolonged contact) but is disappointed too. No doubt Wynonna and her  _ friend _ will disappear soon and Waverly would have liked some company. 

But there is no one else around and she is left alone when people gradually trickle away, Wynonna mouthing  _ I’ll call you  _ over her shoulder.

Waverly wrinkles her nose and mouths  _ ‘ew’ _ back - not so much at the sex but at the slight awkwardness of it all in her own mind; arriving back so quickly after, based on Wynonna’s call or text that the coast is clear.

It has been the only downside of sharing a room with her sister, and in some ways it would have been less troublesome to stay in a dorm and be subjected to the same behaviour from strangers.

At least they were just that: strangers. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

By the time Waverly is alone, she has had enough to drink that an enormous amount of water and prolonged fresh air both seem like a good idea. 

She fills up a bottle at the dispenser and takes her time climbing the stairs from the basement-level social areas and up to the main foyer. She has her own key on her person, and plenty of people use the steep, stone steps at the building’s entrance as a place to congregate, chat, and, more often than not, smoke. 

There are seldom people out there in the small hours, however, and while Waverly has no intention of lighting up (she does not even have anything to smoke) it would be a nice place to sober up while she waits. It is still within the reach of the hostel WiFi too, as she knows from past investigation. 

The steps let out into the quiet little side street, and Waverly feels safe enough to sit down alone and listen to the sounds of the city. It is still very much awake; she can hear music thumping from the speakers of passing cars and the nearby shouts of groups of young people out and intent on enjoying their Friday night. 

She is able to do her waiting in peace and solitude until, eventually the hostel door opens behind her. She does not bother to look round as someone steps outside, assuming that they have come out for a last cigarette before getting into bed. 

They pause for a moment on the top step before they speak. 

“Oh, Waverly. Hi.” 

It is Nicole. Waverly does not have to whirl around to tell that much but, almost on instinct, she does so anyway. 

And there Nicole is, standing in her painfully small athletic shorts and her tight racerback again. She has scraped the top layers of her hair back in preparation to sleep. 

“I thought you’d be in bed by now,” she says, looking down at Waverly with a soft, tired smile. “Where’s Wynonna?”

She casts her eyes about, as if Wynonna might be somewhere just out of sight. 

“The guy from the bar,” Waverly says by way of explanation and Nicole pulls a kind expression.

“Right. I did wonder about the two of them. Assumed, actually, although I shouldn’t have.” 

Waverly shrugs off Nicole’s words. “It’s an understandable assumption. But what about you, I thought you were turning in? Or did you just want an excuse to get away from us all?” 

Waverly says this as a joke, but waits with bated breath for the answer nonetheless.

Nicole just shakes her head, looking bemused, and gestures at the same step Waverly had settled on. 

“Can I?” 

“Of course.” 

Nicole sits with her, sits close (but not close enough that they touch) and angles her body so that they can speak properly.

“Contrary to what you seem to think - and to your sister’s best efforts - I actually really enjoy spending time with you, you know.” 

Waverly tries for a weak little laugh. “Just kidding.” 

It is obvious, though, that she had placed some amount of stock in Nicole’s answer and the half-lie (she  _ had _ been joking, to a degree) convinces no one. 

Nicole looks a little sad when she speaks again. “I did mean what I said before, about making you uncomfortable.” 

“And I meant what I said too. You don’t.” 

There is an unintentional but sincere conviction in Waverly’s voice and Nicole, mercifully, looks reassured. 

They settle in easy silence for a moment and Waverly understands that there has never been a better time to come clean. 

_ You don’t make me uncomfortable, you just make me flustered. _

_ I forget myself around you, because I think you’re wonderful. _

_ You’re beautiful, Nicole and it’s sometimes all I can manage to think about when the rest of my mind feels completely scrambled _ .

Instead, she says:

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

Nicole raises a brow in a silent enquiry. 

“You never told me why you’re out here,” Waverly explains.

“Oh.” Nicole rolls her eyes. “Same as you, kind of. One of my dorm buddies brought a guy back and my headphones broke a few days ago. Anyway. Too much straight sex for my liking.” She gives a deliberately theatrical shudder. “I really don’t need to hear that.” 

Waverly pauses, understanding the hint for what it is. 

_ I’m not straight _ , Nicole is saying.  _ If you were wondering, I’m not straight. _

But of course, Waverly has known that since the moment they met, and she still hadn’t found the guts to act upon it. 

Nicole watches for her reaction and Waverly smiles but still she does not take the leap. 

“Straight sex or not, I don’t need to be in the same room as my sister when she gets it on - even if I had noise-cancelling headphones. It’s too awkward.” 

Nicole laughs brightly and wrinkles her nose. “Yeah, that’s way too far - not like strangers.”

“Honestly, I don’t even think I’d have the guts to kick her out in such an obvious way, but she’s Wynonna - never one to give a crap.” 

Nicole quirks an eyebrow again, this time looking playful all of a sudden. 

“You’re telling me you’ve not met  _ anyone _ this trip?” 

Waverly just shrugs, non-committal and feeling absurdly shy all of a sudden. “Maybe I’m waiting on the right person.” 

“Well that makes sense, I think.” Nicole replies with a depth to her voice that suggests she understands what Waverly is implying, but Waverly cannot be completely sure. 

“How do you mean?”

“I didn’t for a second imagine it was for a lack of opportunity Waverly.” 

Of course, she had seen Waverly turning down the odd guy at the hostel bar. She had probably seen it happen numerous times before. Because, in truth, Waverly had been forced to do just that a few times. She could have said yes - she was even attracted to a couple of them - but none of them were Nicole. 

Nicole had sort of ruined the idea of anyone else here. 

“You saw that the other night, huh?”

“Well, it was a power move. And Wynonna, for finding someone to hook-up with on a healthy understanding. They didn’t seem awkward at the bar earlier.” 

“She’s just Wynonna, I guess. She’s always been unapologetic about what she likes or what she wants. She doesn’t answer to anyone - it’s one of the things I admire the most about her. I didn’t exactly approach things the same way when I was younger.”

Nicole scoffs. “Something very unfortunate tells me that your sister and I would have got on perhaps a little too well as kids.”

Waverly bites her lip. Nicole does not know about what happened to their father, she doesn’t know about the rumours and the bullying and all the crap in between. She does not know how Wynonna struggled, how often she broke down as a kid. But, Waverly thinks, perhaps Nicole would have been the type of person to be kind to everyone. Undoubtedly, she is brilliantly kind now. 

“Okay, cop,” Waverly says, poking her tongue out. “I know you were probably rule-abiding.” 

Nicole laughs, self-effacing and not as full of humour as normal. “Guess again. My parents were...well let’s say they were the nomadic types. They moved around a lot and they weren’t always totally interested in things like my grades or my PTA events. I thought it was totally the right move to play the grouchy, disaffected teen - lots of cigarettes behind the church while the service was on. It was only when I was about fifteen that I realised it was a stupid tactic. Going against convention, sticking it to the man - that was their kind of thing, you know? So I drastically changed tack before I became a senior.”

Waverly takes a moment to process Nicole’s confession. None of it had been what she expected: Nicole seemed grounded and level, and it was odd to think of her as coming from a foundation that was anything but securely fixed. It was odd, too, to think of becoming a cop as her final way of standing up to her folks. 

Waverly feels herself grinning. “So are you telling me your eventual act of peak rebellion was turning it around, working hard, and getting into the Academy? Like the total opposite of conventional rebellion?”

This time, Nicole’s laugh feels genuine again. “I guess so, yeah.” 

“Well then, I retract my earlier comment. Pre rule-abiding Nicole would definitely have gotten on with Wynonna.” 

Nicole flashes her a playful grin. “See? I told you.”

“And you  _ wouldn’t _ have got on with me, the cheerleader who always hated getting into trouble. But don’t tell Wynonna I just admitted to that,” Waverly says quietly, but it is wholeheartedly a joke and it comes through. Even so, Nicole levels a deep, intense stare over at her. 

“Oh, I’d always have got on with you, Waverly.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Do you think they’re done yet?” Waverly asks, referring to Nicole’s unknown roommate. 

“No idea,” Nicole says with a shrug. “They were pretty wasted, but I won’t take my chances just yet.” 

“I probably have earplugs from the plane up in my room you could have had.  _ Unused  _ by me , obviously. But, you know. Same problem right now.” 

Nicole laughs. “No matter, not like I’m looking for an excuse to keep sitting out here with you or anything.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waverly feels her eyes go wide, knows she must look startled and a little absurd. 

She watches, breathless, as Nicole’s gaze flicks between her eyes and her lips. 

They both feel it, the moment things shift, and Waverly observes as if in slow motion as Nicole leans in. 

It does not quite feel real, the idea that weeks of longing might suddenly come to fruition, and Waverly cannot seem to do more than sit and wait for the soft press of Nicole’s perfect lips to meet her own. 

Nicole gets close,  _ painfully close _ , before she whispers Waverly’s name. It comes out as a question, as a search for assent and understanding and perhaps for something to ground her too. 

“ _ Yes, Nicole _ .” 

Waverly’s reply means a hundred different things, all at once. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nicole is close, lips practically ghosting against Waverly’s when a cell phone rings and it sends them both out of their own skins. 

Waverly’s heart, already racing, feels painfully ready to beat out of her own chest, and it takes her a long moment to realise that the ringtone is her own. 

Waverly fumbles for the phone and sees that it is Wynonna. She glances up from the bright screen, mostly tempted to ignore the call, but notes how Nicole has settled back in her original spot, looking shell-shocked and rather as though she has just witnessed an earthquake. 

When Waverly picks up the call, she tries not to sound too terse. It isn’t Wynonna’s fault, not really.

Or rather, it  _ is _ her fault but she didn’t do it on purpose.  

In the distance, Waverly hears the click of a door closing. 

“I can’t decide if you calling me  _ that _ quickly is impressively clinical or slightly worrying.” 

“Oh trust me kiddo, I’m always impressive.”

“ _ Wyn _ .” 

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that and if you choose to take it as such then that says more about you than about me.” 

“Whatever you say sis. I stand by my point.” 

“We both know it’s nothing serious Wave. He wasn’t exactly expecting to stay over for the night. We’re happy having fun, which is this thing where people - ”

“I get it Wynonna,” Waverly says quickly. She glances towards Nicole, aware that she is polite enough to avoid actively eavesdropping but still cannot help but hear at least one side of this conversation. In fact, in the still night air she might even be able to hear Wynonna down the phone. 

Calmly, Nicole meets Waverly’s gaze and holds it. 

“If you say so babygirl.” 

“I do. I’m not really after just a hookup though,” Waverly says quietly, deliberately not looking away from Nicole. Her heart is still hammering, fearful now that she is saying too much and that Nicole will withdraw if she does only want something casual. 

Waverly receives a small, knowing smile for her efforts.

Of course, she has nothing against the idea of something casual. Of course, this is not about calling her sister out for it. Of course, she had had the odd one-night thing in college, after Champ and before  _ the girl _ . But it is pointless to deny now that she likes Nicole. She  _ likes _ likes her. 

There is no chance of her trying for something fleeting with a random stranger; there had been no chance of it since her first morning in Greece, not once she laid eyes on Nicole Haught. There is especially no chance of it now, not when they had been so  _ damn _ close…

“ _ Boring _ ,” Wynonna trills down the phone, voice sing-song so as to be obvious in its sarcasm. “Well, whatever fun you are or aren’t having, you’re free to come back whenever. Just remember I’m working all day tomorrow so I’ll be up -  _ ugh _ \-  _ early _ .”

Waverly heaves a dramatic sigh. “I get it, I get it. I’ll be back soon so I don’t disturb you before work.”

She hangs up the call, flashing a regretful, apologetic look at Nicole.

“I don’t want to mess her around. She is the reason I’m here after all, along with that crappy job.”

Nicole shakes her head as if to dismiss the unspoken apology. She stands and gestures that Waverly should do the same, holding out her hand to help Waverly up.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m beat and it’s really late, I should probably turn in too. I’m sure they must be done by now. It’s not like they’re lesbians.”

She waits until she sees Waverly steadily onto her feet (although in truth, Waverly had sobered up quickly once Nicole had tried to kiss her) and then withdraws her hand, standing a respectful distance apart.

It is clear that the moment has long-since passed but, as she laughs weakly at Nicole’s joke, Waverly cannot help but feel a little disappointed. She is worried, too, that her admission that she doesn’t just want one night with Nicole might have put the other woman off. 

She feels a little uncomfortable weight tremor somewhere in her ribcage, dislodging and dropping into her stomach. She cannot say for sure what she had been expecting, but a romantic, idealistic part of her had been hoping that Nicole might still grab her by the hand and kiss her senseless.

But the moment was out floating on the wind somewhere. 

_ Thanks, Wynonna _ . 

Silently, they both turn and scale the steps, Nicole pausing to unlock the door and open it for Waverly, nodding at her to pass through first. Their bodies brush in the narrow doorway and Waverly has to fight to tamp down a little gasp at the way it almost feels like static electricity between them.

Still quiet, they loiter in the lobby, aware that this is where they must part as they head for different parts of the building.

After a pause, Nicole tucks some of her hair behind her right ear and it is almost as though she is playing for time so that they do not have to part quite so soon.

Waverly clears her throat, resolving to speak.

They both come to their respective decisions at the same moment.

“Hey so, I uh - ” Waverly begins, right as Nicole says -

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

Their voices echo in the dark, deserted atrium and it seems that they both sound much too loud. Waverly takes a moment to register Nicole’s question and her pause seems to dent some of Nicole’s boldness.

“I mean, I’m not sure if you have plans. It doesn’t have to be tomor- ”

“Tomorrow is perfect, Nicole,” Waverly says quickly, beaming. A similar smile blooms on Nicole’s face, beautiful and delicate like daisies.

“Yeah?” Nicole says with a delighted, breathy little laugh. She sounds almost as though she cannot quite believe her luck.

Silently, Waverly decides that she feels the same.

“Yeah,” she echoes, words momentarily failing her.

“I was thinking we could check out that place? Sounio? You mentioned it that afternoon at the cafe, when I was on my way back from rock-climbing. I haven’t been yet - sort of kept saving it and hoping I’d get to go with you.” Nicole looks sheepish, her eyes dodging Waverly’s gaze for just a second after her admission. “You could show me that temple, if you wanted?”

“I’d love that,” Waverly says seriously. “There’s the beaches too, we could go swimming if you wanted? Make sure it’s something we’ll both enjoy?”

“Oh, I’ll enjoy it,” Nicole says with conviction, before catching herself and clearing her throat. “But that’s a lovely idea, thank you.”

The conversation peters out as they simply stand and take the other in, both of them still wearing wide, wistful grins.

After a moment, Nicole asks, “shall I just see you at breakfast then? Eight o’clock maybe?”

“Yes, okay. Perfect. See you at breakfast.”

Nicole gives her one last look before turning away. “Sleep well, Waverly.”

But Waverly does not feel remotely tired. Instead, she floats blissfully all the way back to her room and can barely shut her eyes for the excitement of it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohhhh Wynonna!!!!! She's so good at interrupting. But surely even she can't interrupt a whole day trip between Nicole and Waverly??? 
> 
> I will be back this time next week with that part of the story for you guys.
> 
> In the meantime I really do appreciate it so greatly when I get to hear what you guys think either below or on twitter etc
> 
> twitter: @rositabustiiios  
> ko-fi: www.ko-fi.com/alissawrites


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much like the Greek summer, things are getting a little...wayhaught...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> Just a quick note to once again say thank you if you've taken the time to read/comment/contact me on twitter. I really do appreciate it so so much. 
> 
> There's really no preamble this week, just that I really hope you guys are gonna like the fluff/cheese/all-round wayhaught content on this update. 
> 
> More in the notes below!

Waverly wakes almost with the dawn, too filled with nerves and excitement to consider sleeping again.

She lays in bed, the thin covers bunched right down to the bottom, and stares upwards at the odd texture of the plaster ceiling. She wonders for a while as to whether it could reasonably be said that Nicole had instigated a date, or whether it would be fairer to admit that she, Waverly, is hoping for too much out of this situation.

In truth, it is still hard to tell what it is that Nicole wants. She gives so little away, unlike Waverly who cannot seem to help wearing her heart so brazenly on her sleeve.

Deep down, an unsure part of Waverly ventures to suspect that they both like each other a little too much to instigate only a one-off, one-night thing between them. Waverly wonders if perhaps Nicole is simply trying not to be too forward about it all.

Indeed, she can hardly say she blames Nicole for such a course of action, because that is exactly what she herself has been doing for weeks. To a degree, this is because she is unsure of exactly _how_ to proceed. Partly, she is making an effort to avoid thinking about how it feels in her stomach whenever Nicole is in her orbit.

It makes her wonder how she can be expected to survive an excursion with Nicole today, let alone one that involves packing up a swimming costume (and knowing that Nicole will be doing the same).

Waverly feels a thrill of nervous butterflies converge in her stomach at the thought, and finds herself bolting out of bed in an attempt to do something, _anything_ , that might take her mind off the situation at hand.

She heads for the bathroom, keen to shower and brush her teeth as a means to scrape away the last grimy feelings of a night of drinking. She flits about the bedroom when she is done, collecting things to put in her day bag and trying to think of every eventuality.

Arguably, she thinks of too many eventualities.

She packs two swimming costumes – unsure if this is going to be a bikini or full costume type event – and briefly assesses that she will need a towel if she is going to swim. She packs it into the meagre space of her backpack until the bag is misshapen and straining at the seams.

She unpacks it a moment later when she realises that, in the current temperatures, she will be dry almost as soon as she gets out of the water.

It is as she is trying to wrestle the towel back out of her bag that Wynonna wakes up and sends her an exasperated sigh.

“What on _earth_ are you trying to do to that poor towel?”

“Remove it,” Waverly says with an inelegant grunt, as if those two words might explain everything.

“Great. Thanks for that, it really helped,” Wynonna grumbles, rolling over and searching blindly for her phone beneath the covers.

Eventually, she locates it and disconnects it from the charger. She scrolls absently for a moment but clearly finds very little of interest on any of her usual go-to morning checks.

“I packed it thinking I would need it, but I won’t.”

“Need it for what?” Wynonna asks, getting out of bed with a dramatic groan. She stretches and Waverly hears at least three successive pops emanate from her sister’s joints.

Waverly pauses, unsure as to whether Wynonna will assume too much if she is told the truth.

“I’m taking a trip today since you’re working. Sounio.”

Wynonna nods, chewing at her lip as she pokes through her small mound of clean laundry. The dirty laundry mound is getting out of hand and needs to be addressed, but she has been doing a credible job of ignoring it entirely.

“Cool, you’ve wanted to go for a while. Glad you’re finally heading out.”

“Me too,” Waverly says with a smile. Whatever the purpose of this day with Nicole, Waverly is truly happy to finally visit the site and the old temple to Poseidon.

“Anything prompt it?” Wynonna asks, sounding neutral and seemingly with no ulterior motive.

On a whim, Waverly decides to tell the truth. It will be weirder if she lies and Wynonna finds out about it. That will surely give the game away.

(In truth, Waverly knows she needs to set aside some time to speak to Wynonna about certain _things_. She wants to tell her sister but, much like making a move with Nicole, she keeps putting it off).

“Nicole suggested it.”

Waverly waits, wondering whether Wynonna will connect any dots.

If she does, however, she is incredibly subtle about it.

“Oh, nice. It makes sense instead of the two of you cluttering up the place separately-together.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a real way with words sis?”

Wynonna snags her towel from the dresser before flashing Waverly a smile. “Many people, many times kiddo.”

“And has it ever occurred to you that it’s not intended as a compliment?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Wynonna calls from the bathroom as she shuts the door behind her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

They meet up with Nicole in the dining hall, as has become routine recently - or rather, since Nicole is not surrounded by a group of other people at meal times.

Granted, she had been making an effort to save spaces for the sisters long before her friends upped sticks and left, but it is easier now to find a spot that accommodates all of them together.

“Waverly was saying that you guys are taking a trip today.”

Waverly watches as, impressively subtly, Nicole’s eyes dart quickly across the table and away from Wynonna, gauging Waverly’s reaction.

In turn, Waverly flashes a look that she hopes is encouraging, and Nicole’s shoulders seem to ease slightly.

“Since you’re abandoning your own sister, Earp,” Nicole says with a sigh. “Thought one of us had to show some hospitality.”

“Curb the hero complex Haught,” Wynonna replies smoothly. “I’m sure Waverly’s just humouring you. She was probably too goody-goody to tell you to get lost.”

For a brief moment, Waverly wonders if Wynonna’s teasing will unintentionally hit too close to home, but another quick glance at Nicole sets her mind at ease immediately.

Nicole swallows a mouthful of bread, before sending a direct, brazen look in Waverly’s direction.

“Huh, is that so?” she says, replying to Wynonna but evidently speaking to both sisters at once. “I guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

Wynonna snorts. “I’m a tough act to follow dude. Much more fun during excursions than _you_.”

Nicole smiles, tipping Waverly a wink when Wynonna looks away. “Well I’m sure I can bring something better to the table.”

Waverly feels herself blush again, looking down at her bowl of granola and praying for the red on her cheeks to die down quickly.

“Pride comes before a fall,” Wynonna warns, and Nicole chuckles. “Plus Waves is gonna go Super Nerd on you when you get to that temple. Hope you’re prepared for that.”

“Hey! Why the sneak attack?” Waverly asks around a mouthful of cereal, throwing her hands up in protest.

Locked in battle, neither Wynonna nor Nicole replies directly.

Instead, Nicole says, “I’m sure I can handle it.”

And, with Nicole arguably answering another statement entirely, Waverly rather suspects that she can.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The journey to Sounio takes them two hours on a poorly air-conditioned coach, and they pass the time easily with small talk and, at Nicole’s request, a rudimentary lesson from Waverly about the mythology surrounding Poseidon.

“I know the basics, obviously,” Nicole says, “but I’d rather learn from an expert.”

“I don’t know about ‘expert’,” Waverly says quickly, used to brushing off her own knowledge base as something unimpressive.

“You shouldn’t do that,” Nicole says gently, brow furrowing slightly as if to query why Waverly undersells her own skills. “I’ve never met anyone half so smart as you, and you shouldn’t downplay it just because there’s more to learn. There will always be more to learn, but you already know plenty more than most.”

Waverly feels a shy little smile tug at her lips.

“Thanks,” she says, voice quiet and thoughtful.

“So c’mon,” Nicole says, matching Waverly’s grin with one of her own. “Tell me everything you can. Whether you believe it or not, I want to hear about this stuff.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

By the time they have left the stuffy public transport behind, it is almost lunchtime. They agree that after they have scoped out the ancient site, they will need to find some shade and eat their pre-packed (read: stolen from the hostel kitchen) lunch.

Ever-conscientious, Nicole champions regular water breaks while they are here, and even takes the time to apply extra sunscreen. She is forced to ask for Waverly’s help when she cannot quite reach a cluster of the cream that rolls down her shoulder.

Her skin is warm and soft where Waverly touches it, covered in a beautiful sea of freckles from all of this time spent in the sunshine.

Nicole has a map – an actual, old-fashioned paper map – as well as some digital guides saved to her cell phone, because after the temple she wants to find a beach more off the beaten track. She seems content enough when Waverly cedes that particular job to her entirely because, as she had stated during the coach ride, Waverly was practically her own private tour guide. Nicole wanted to do something in return.

The coach drops them right at the foot of the temple, and so all they must do is line up to pay the small entry fee. Although the place feels remote there are, once again, groups of tourists milling around already.

They wait in companionable silence and Waverly allows herself to take in the old monument for the first time.

It is the only real structure present at the top of this particular hill (excepting the small restaurant and ticket booth nearby), but a glance down the slope of dirt and dried-out grass does show other signs of life somewhere in the distance.

This temple is not, admittedly, the best-preserved ancient monument out there; mostly just a strong, stone foundation with nine remaining Doric columns on one side and some five (and a bit) on the other.

Waverly glances to Nicole to try and assess her immediate response to the ruins in front of them. She is aware that sometimes these sorts of things might be underwhelming to those who do not perhaps have some kind of pre-existing interest in them. But Nicole simply turns her head to meet Waverly’s gaze with an easy smile that makes Waverly’s head spin.

“Ready to explore?” she asks gently.

Heart in her mouth, Waverly nods.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nicole, God bless her, waits patiently while Waverly combs every inch of the temple.

She forgets herself sometimes in situations such as this, failing to remember that it is not everyone’s standard behaviour to slowly and painstakingly examine each part of a half-ruined old building.

Still, Nicole takes an interest, gazing at a frieze or trying to pick out old remnants of wall decorations. She listens intently when Waverly explains that they depict battles between giants and centaurs, as well as the labours of Theseus.

Indeed, Nicole does not seem to notice the time passing, but if she does there is no sense that she would want Waverly to rush this moment.

In fact, a couple of times Waverly catches Nicole watching her as she examines the old temple. The first time, Nicole’s gaze flicks away immediately, as if she is embarrassed to have been caught out, but after this she simply meets Waverly’s eye and refuses to look away.

It is something Waverly cannot quite fathom out, being amongst all this history and still being the object of someone else’s focus.

But then again, she is not immune to the distraction Nicole provides.

In fact, Nicole is in short, frayed denim cut-offs that look as though they are worn through use and not for aesthetic, but whatever the case, they accentuate her strong legs wonderfully. Her burgundy t-shirt is faded and soft-looking, and the overall effect is that Nicole looks wonderfully laid-back and casual.

She had not bothered to style or straighten her hair this morning, instead leaving it to spring up even shorter in lovely natural waves that many would spend hours styling into place.

And she sets off her whole look – whether intentionally or otherwise – with a pair of silver, reflective aviator glasses that look impossibly cool. Waverly shocks herself to realise just how much that badass, devil-may-care look does for her when it is modelled by Nicole. For the first time, Waverly can imagine her as the aloof, wayward teen she claims to have been.

Better still, Waverly can imagine her as the Hollywood-perfect cop that Nicole might just become.

(Because, even now, Waverly struggles to believe that Nicole Haught could ever have broken as many rules as she had implied the night before.)

Eventually, after they must have been at the temple well over an hour, Waverly suddenly realises how slowly she has been progressing around the site.

Her stomach gives an obstinate grumble and she suspects that Nicole must be hungry too.

She straightens up from her position, crouched down near the floor to try and find the place where Lord Byron had once carved his name into the old marble.

“We should get some lunch,” she says to Nicole, who is waiting nearby with an easy, peaceful expression on her face.

“You sure?” she asks, tone indicating that she knows just how easily Waverly could stay here and keep exploring. “Because I don’t want you to leave on my part.”

Waverly’s stomach gives another rumble, this time loud enough for Nicole to hear. They both laugh.

“I’m sort of leaving on her part too,” Waverly says, making reference to her belly.

Nicole laughs again. “Glad I’m not the only one who’s guided by my stomach.”

“Oh trust me, Wynonna’s worse. You don’t want to be in the implosion zone if she gets too hungry.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

They find a spot to eat, settling on a low wall beneath the shade of a modest grove of olive trees. There is little shelter to be had here on the hill next to the temple, where the sun has baked the ground until it is hard and only patches of scrubby brush have managed to cling to life in the unforgiving heat.

It would seem that most of the other tourists have favoured the beach or a nearby seafood restaurant, and so it it is surprisingly quiet in their little spot. Waverly appreciates the solitude for her and Nicole; it feels easy and natural to spend this kind of time together. It is like they just click.

“I thought there might be more people around,” Nicole admits, demonstrating an uncanny ability to voice precisely what Waverly had been thinking. “But it’s nice, I like that about it. Feels like we’re the only two here.”

Nicole seems to think over her own words for a moment before taking a bite into a slightly warm-looking sandwich. She had snagged some cheese and cured meat from the breakfast counter and does not complain as she eats it, but it does look a little past its prime.

Waverly’s offering – more fruit and vegetables – has hardly fared better, but they had expected nothing more in the current weather conditions. Unsurprisingly, temperatures had only kept climbing throughout the summer, and even Waverly with her cold blood had to concede that the hottest parts of the day were too much to bear. Almost everyone congregated in small cafes or back at the hostel by midday now, and failing that she and Nicole make the best of the shade they can find.

“I knew it was kind of a hidden gem,” Waverly replies, turning a cherry tomato between her fingers, “and obviously I know there were quite a few people in the temple itself, but still. I thought it would be more popular than this.”

“You got your own history tour, huh?” Nicole says, smiling.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Waverly says quickly, “I didn’t mean to take so long.” She pops the tomato into her mouth and chews, choosing the moment deliberately so that she cannot engage too much in a back and forth on her seeming inability to stop apologising in front of Nicole (and, in fairness, others) when it came to her studies.

This, however, does not deter Nicole from pressing the matter.

“It’s what we came here to see,” she says with a chuckle, “you could have spent all day here – I wouldn’t have minded.”

“That’s very sweet of you,” Waverly says, before something makes her laugh at herself. Nicole flashes a look of enquiry and Waverly says, “I just caught myself as I went to apologise for apologising. It’s getting out of hand.”

Nicole laughs too.

“I didn’t want to say anything, but...” she shrugs and goes back to her sandwich.

“It’s a bad habit, I guess.”

“Well, we all have them,” Nicole says, tone airy and completely without any hint of judgement. There is no sense that she expects Waverly to share more than that, but there is something about Nicole that makes her impossibly easy to talk to and the words tumble out of Waverly’s mouth uninvited.

“Most people weren’t really interested in the history I’ve studied,” she explains. “A lot of people have made it very clear I bore them sometimes when I talk about it. Well, _bored_. I did dump him eventually.”

This makes Nicole laugh again but when she speaks her voice is sharper than before. “Good on you. Because I really, really don’t get it.”

For a moment, Waverly misunderstands and thinks that Nicole is referring to her decision to continue dating someone as unsupportive of Champ. “Yeah I know I was stupid.”

Quickly, Nicole shakes her head and her voice softens. “Not you, him. Not to take a jab at your ex, but it just doesn’t make any sense to me. That’s always been like, my favourite thing about other people: finding that little – or not-little – thing that makes their eyes light up. And it doesn’t make sense to me that you’d connect your life with someone by dating them, but not connect _to_ them when they talk about the shit they care about, you know?”

“I do,” Waverly says, her heart racing as she considers just how acutely she _knows_ what Nicole means. She plays it coy, however, because she is not used to anyone being quite so candid about something like this. “But when you don’t share the interest, I guess?”

Nicole just shrugs, looking a little puzzled. “But if your friend, mom, partner, whatever likes it? You take an interest, surely? Or, I would.” Nicole pauses, taking in the expression on Waverly’s face. “But like I say. Not trying send a punch at some dude I don’t even know. Just my two cents.”

Nicole concludes with a slight apology in her voice, perhaps unsure as to whether she has overstepped the mark or left Waverly feeling slightly defensive over someone she once cared for. But this could not be further from reality. Waverly appreciates Nicole’s candour and has no loyalty now towards a man who never once stayed loyal to her.

“No, it’s a good two cents,” Waverly says with a small smile, finally letting the uncertainty fade out of her expression. “I’m just not used to hearing them from anyone but myself. Or, well, my sister too recently.”

“Well,” Nicole says with a knowing smile, “your sister _does_ talk sense once in a while then.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

True to her own word, Waverly suggests that they head for a beach in an attempt to cool off.

Nicole, always happy to be doing something active, cannot accept quickly enough.

“There is a lake nearby too,” Waverly says, “but I read online that it’s kind of expensive and it gets really crowded. But we did the temple for me so...”

“Beaches are free,” Nicole says with yet another good-natured smile.

They finish up their food and Waverly waits as Nicole consults first her phone and then her map to find a beach. They will pass the rest of the day there, waiting for the sunset which, Waverly is assured, is remarkable to watch from the temple site.

All of the stretches of sand beside the ruins are already packed out with people, and both women are keen to find somewhere a little quieter.

“There’s one here,” Nicole says, pointing at a tiny section of her paper map. “I’ve got no idea how well-advertised it is, or how easy to get to, but we could try it?”

Waverly squints at the map. “So long as you’re the one navigating, I’ll trust you to pick the destination.”

“Not one for map-reading, huh?” Nicole says with a playful grin.

“Let’s just say I need a ‘you are here’ sticker, and I always let Google guide me places. So it’s on you if you want to take that kind of risk by putting me in charge.”

Nicole laughs and traces a short line along the map’s blue segment, demarcating the ocean. “It’s fine. It’s actually a pretty easy route.”

Waverly grins back, letting Nicole hold her gaze for a little while longer.

“Then I’ll let you lead the way.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

The beach, as they find it, is actually a tiny spit of sand nestled in a hollow amongst a rocky outcrop. It is almost entirely hidden from sight and presumably is only discoverable by people who had thought to look for it.

Nicole and Waverly stand together atop the headland and look down the little cliff face. It is not sheer and would be easy to both descend and scale so long as they watch their footing.

“I had thought it might be a little more accessible,” Nicole says, sounding sceptical as she looks at the pattern of the rocks.

“I thought you liked rock climbing?” Waverly asks, teasing and poking her tongue out slightly.

Nicole gives her a playful nudge with her shoulder.

“Firstly, that’s very different and involves a lot of safety equipment. Secondly,” she says, pausing and leaning in closer to drop her voice and tease Waverly back, “ _I’m_ game to try and get down there.”

With Nicole’s face closer than usual, Waverly fights to keep her expression impassive and her voice even.

She raises her eyebrows as if to accept the challenge. “And are you assuming I’m not?”

“I never said _that_.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Despite a generous amount of fighting talk as they make their way down towards the beach, Nicole does take great pains to ensure that they are safe and that they are not going to be doing anything especially reckless in the process.

In reality, the decline towards the sand is so slight that it is more like they are climbing across a small, rocky obstacle course than actually trying to descend a proper cliff face.

Nicole manages to trace an easy path that winds back and forth and Waverly follows, half-regretting her choice of slip-on sandals until they are finally onto the sand and it is Nicole who must wrestle with her sneakers and socks.

Waverly offers her shoulder and Nicole steadies herself as she hops from one foot to the other and yet again even this contact feels like _more_.

Everything feels like more between them; colours are brighter, sounds are clearer, touch runs deeper…

Waverly tries to think of a time when anything had ever felt this way before, but nothing comes to mind. It all seems to centre around Nicole, like Waverly has somehow adjusted course and started moving in Nicole’s orbit now.

With this thought process running rings around Waverly’s mind, they still eventually make it to the water’s edge. They both test the temperature by standing in the shallows up to their ankles, enjoying the feel of the waters swirling back and forth, back and forth…

“It’s cosy,” Waverly says, struggling to believe how warm the water is. “Like a bath or something.”

Nicole hums an agreement. “Maybe not as refreshing as I’d like but that’s not gonna stop me.”

They share a look of anticipation before returning up the small slope of sand and dropping their bags off a safe distance from the tide line. The beach is almost completely invisible from land and, as such, there is no one else around.

If they strain their ears, they can just hear the distant hum of holiday-goers enjoying the larger, more accessible beaches, but they are separated wonderfully from them by the headland. The sound only just carries on the soft, fragrant breeze and somehow only adds to the peaceful atmosphere by highlighting the serenity of their own chosen spot.

In addition, the noise is a reminder that they are completely alone.

Waverly has been waiting for time like this with Nicole since day one, but now that it stretches out in front of her she does not know where to begin.

Nicole, however, is already reaching into her bag for her swimming costume and Waverly decides that the best course of action is to follow suit.

But if there had been any degree of difficulty in slipping out of shoes, then changing their clothes adds another layer of tension entirely.

Waverly instantly regrets not simply wearing her bikini under her dress.

Still, she has an easier time of it than Nicole, who has to somehow navigate herself out of her shorts and into her own costume.

Waverly clocks the blue, patterned material as Nicole bundles it into her hand, and wonders instantly how she is supposed to keep her cool when Nicole apparently has a bikini of her own.

She had not been sure whether to peg Nicole for such attire, but she supposes Nicole has a different costume altogether for anything remotely more active than treading water in a beautiful blue lake or relaxing on a beach.

She keeps her back turned and waits respectfully for Nicole to change behind a small scrap of brown rocks, and she does not venture to turn or even to speak until Nicole appears at her side.

It is all Waverly can do not to stare in incredulity.

In fact, she studiously ignores the proud curve of Nicole’s waist and hips, and the strong definition in her stomach. She ignores the sight of the tops of Nicole’s shapely thighs, always hidden away by her shorts until now.

Waverly swallows as her mouth goes dry and nerves set in all over again.

“Ready?” Nicole asks, already getting set to wade into the ocean.

Waverly follows swiftly, keeping her mouth clamped firmly shut until the turquoise waters half-obscure Nicole up to her shoulders as they both begin to tread water for a while.

This is her first ever time swimming in the ocean; something she has dreamed about for years. It is overwhelming in every way, made all the more so because Nicole is here. Nicole had given her this moment, without even knowing what it meant to Waverly.

Still oblivious to all of Waverly's innermost musings, Nicole eventually begins to paddle around a bit, ducking her head under the little rippling waves and slicking her hair back when she emerges with her eyes screwed shut.

She looks adorable like that, with her hair sopping and a singular drop of seawater rolling down her nose.

On a whim, Waverly reaches out and brushes the water away, and they bob together on the current.

Nicole watches Waverly carefully, eyes tracking over every inch of her face. She seems to be searching for something, and Waverly lets herself drift in the water and simply stare silently back.

She can feel the weight of this moment, of the atmosphere between them, but she does not dare to hope that it might mean something more.

They stay like that in content silence until a larger wave rolls up behind them. It pushes them towards the shore, jostling them both until they have been drawn closer together.

On instinct, Waverly dashes out a steadying hand and finds herself gripping onto Nicole’s bicep. Once again, her skin is warm and soft, and Waverly can feel the strength of the muscle below.

The water moves them this way and that, and they bob about until their legs are touching and there is scarcely a gap between their bodies at all.

Waverly feels her breath catch at the contact, and at the way Nicole smiles as their faces loom closer together.

“Hi.”

There is a look in Nicole’s eye that has every nerve in Waverly’s body lighting up.

For all the times that Nicole has smiled and looked so soft and unguarded, she has never looked quite so open as she does there, floating with Waverly in their own private corner of the Mediterranean sea.

Waverly’s voice, when it finally comes back to her, barely makes it above a whisper.

“Hi.”

She knows what is going to happen, right before it does.

Nicole’s lips close over hers and Waverly just has time to consider that she will probably taste like seawater and sunshine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It is everything Waverly could ever have imagined.

It is _more_ besides.

Nicole smiles into kisses and she seems to be able to pour a little part of herself into Waverly’s bones every time.

There is saltwater on Nicole’s skin and the tang of it keeps Waverly grounded, right up until Nicole’s tongue ventures forward.

Waverly parts her lips and loses her grip on what is real.

They float together and Waverly all but shudders at the feel of Nicole wrapping two strong arms around her back, pulling her close and keeping their bodies flush together.

Their lips move unceasingly as - in an automatic, unthinking response - Waverly locks her ankles behind Nicole’s back, her knees slotting beautifully against Nicole’s hips.

Nicole glides her hands across Waverly’s back; the only thing remotely close to an anchor in all these open waters.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Nicole holds Waverly’s hand when they finally quit the water and while away time together on the beach, and she does not let go as they walk back to the temple.

They hide their conjoined hands as they sit together and watch the sunset, and Nicole puts her arm around Waverly’s shoulders when she curls tight into Nicole’s side during the return coach journey.

When they arrive back at the hostel, Waverly texts Wynonna with a subtle question about her location.

Nicole and Waverly wait with bated breath to ascertain whether the sisters’ room might be fair game for a final few stray moments of very, very heavy petting before they are expected in public later.

After Wynonna’s response that she is in the bar, Waverly and Nicole crash into the room, already lip-locked and panting.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Nicole admits against Waverly’s lips as the door slams shut, laughing quietly like she cannot believe this is all real. “I never quite thought I’d be able to.”

“I’ve been waiting,” Waverly says, voice barely more than a strained gasp. “I didn’t know how to make the first move so I’ve been waiting.”

With a look of surprise, Nicole pulls back slightly.

“How long?”

For the first time since the beach, Waverly dodges Nicole’s gaze for a moment.

“Pretty much since day one.”

Nicole hooks a finger under Waverly’s chin and tilts her head so that their eyes can meet again.

“ _Really?”_ she asks.

Half-embarrassed, Waverly nods.

In response, Nicole gives an unexpected groan and tilts their foreheads together. For a moment, nerves bite at Waverly as she wonders if she has said the wrong thing, come across too strong maybe. But then Nicole chuckles again and it blows all of Waverly’s fears away.

“You mean I could have been doing this for _weeks_ already?”

Waverly gives her a quick peck of a kiss. “Looks like it, yeah.”

“We’re _idiots_.”

She kisses Waverly again then, deeper and with more intent than before.

 _We are_ , Waverly thinks to herself as her whole body lights up. _We really, really are_.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Everything and nothing changes after that.

Waverly expects there to be a stilted, perhaps even awkward, adjustment period but there is nothing of the sort. They are as at ease with each other as ever, moreso even once they have blown away some of the tension laying heavy between them.

And Lord, they do precisely that.

They do it a lot, in fact. More than Waverly could ever have dreamed of when wishing for something to happen between her and Nicole.

It is hard to sit in the hostel bar with Wynonna and their group of loose acquaintances that first night after they return from Sounio, and Waverly finds herself heading to the bathroom in tandem with Nicole on at least three occasions.

Nicole is on her the moment they find a secluded spot, her lips searching and her fingers gripping beautifully at Waverly’s hips through the thin fabric of her sundress.

On one occasion, she backs Waverly up against the locked door of a bathroom stall and kisses a burning trail down the column of Waverly’s throat.

She nudges the neckline of Waverly’s dress out the way, before sucking a bruise to her skin that will have her eschewing low-cut tank tops for days.

In response, Waverly lets out an involuntary, high-pitched mewl that takes them both by surprise. She feels a blush rise to her cheeks, well aware that anyone else in the other stalls would have heard. She had not _meant_ to cry out, but she had not expected to enjoy it so much when Nicole marked her.  

They both freeze and Waverly feels sheepish and embarrassed until she realises that Nicole, face against Waverly’s neck, is struggling to hold in a silent bout of giggles. Waverly feels the way the laughter shakes Nicole’s body where they touch and it proves to be infectious, because they laugh quietly together until the bathroom’s other occupants have washed their hands and left the room.

After that, Nicole’s lips are back on Waverly’s and they kiss and kiss and kiss for as long as they dare without risking arousing suspicion.

It is not that Waverly does not want everyone to know about this, but that she does not want Wynonna to find out about her sexuality this way. She needs to find a time to talk, but her sister’s work rota is pretty packed-out for the next week or so.

It is both a blessing and a curse, because even with more time to explore this shift between her and Nicole, Waverly still misses spending time with her sister all the same. Plus, it will make it hard to get things out in the open so that she and Nicole can stop sneaking around.

“I get it Waves, it’s fine,” Nicole assures her for the umpteenth time when Waverly apologises yet again as they sit together outside and wait for Wynonna to summon Waverly back to the shared bedroom.

“You’re really not upset with me?” Waverly says again, eyes carefully watching Nicole’s face for any sign that she might have done something wrong by asking that... _whatever this is_...be kept under wraps for the time being.

“Hey, I really do get it,” Nicole repeats, laughing and leaning in for a kiss.

“You’re the best,” Waverly says, right before their lips meet.

 _“Oh, I know_.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

With poor Wynonna stuck working, Waverly and Nicole use the free time to their utmost advantage.

When they are not wrapped up in each other, they spend their time in the city, revisiting all the sites they have both already explored separately.

There is a new glow about the place, however, as they explore it together.

Nicole insists that Waverly show her round her favourite museum ( _‘just pick the one you wish you’d spent longer visiting_ ’) and plays the role of chivalrous suitor by insisting she buy Waverly a nice dinner one night.

“You don’t have to pay,” Waverly says, trying to convince Nicole to split the check.

“I want to,” Nicole replies, voice dismissive but not unkind.

“But…”

“ _Waverly_ ,” Nicole says with a laugh, as she drops her voice and leans across the table to whisper. “I’m trying to woo you here, just let me have this.”

“But I’m already feeling pretty _wooed_ as it is,” Waverly says playfully, raising a coy eyebrow.

“Is that so?” Nicole asks, failing to bite back a smirk as she counts out a small stack of euros.

“Oh I’d certainly say so, yeah.”

(They all but race each other back to the hostel after that, and end their time alone with the straps of Waverly’s dress bunched down, her bra on the floor, and a fresh set of purple bruises between her breasts.)  

Nicole even takes a chance and holds Waverly’s hand amongst the near-overwhelming crowds of the Monastiraki flea market.

“They’ll just think we’re friends, trying not to lose each other,” she whispers into Waverly’s ear as they amble from stall to stall.

The illusion that their connection is completely, innocently platonic is somewhat shattered by the way they interlock their fingers and give the other’s hand a gentle squeeze every so often, but they just about manage to pass by under the radar all the same.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

They end their week with Nicole taking Waverly on a surprise outing.

Their destination turns out to be an old, open-air cinema with an unbelievable view of the Parthenon. Nicole manages to snag a picnic blanket from somewhere and unpacks food that certainly was not lifted from the hostel.

It is every wonderful, cheesy cliché that Waverly has ever dreamed of.

They sit close and split a bottle of weak wine and at sundown the huge screen lights up with the opening credits of an obscure foreign film that neither of them quite manages to follow.

Before it is halfway finished, they both give up any pretences of watching closely and instead sprawl out on their backs. It is enough to stare skywards and let the ambiance of the environment wash over them.

Waverly curls into Nicole’s side and chances a few tiny, chaste kisses to her neck and jaw.

“Are you happy?” Waverly asks on a whim. “Like, do you like this? Us, the city?”

Slowly, Nicole looks away from the stars and turns her head towards Waverly, and there are galaxies in Nicole’s eyes just as magnificent as the ones above them.

“It’s perfect,” Nicole answers without hesitation. “ _You’re_ perfect. You make me happy, Waverly.”

Waverly had never believed it before then, but with Nicole beside her and the stars above her, it doesn’t seem so fanciful anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the interests of the cheese and fluff, let's all just suspend our disbelief that they might be able to find a secluded stretch of beach at a tourist hotspot, deal? Okay thanks, deal. 
> 
> Similarly, is Nicole a bikini person? Probably not. Did I want to give Waverly that visual/recreate Kat Barrell's legendary instagram post? Yes. Would Nicole make an effort for Waverly? Almost certainly. 
> 
> (Also, that open air cinema is a real thing. *Swoon*.) 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Admittedly this isn't as slow burn-y as I like to read/write/watch but if I was left all my fics would be like 200k long slow burn messes. 
> 
> As ever, please do let me know what you liked, didn't, etc., and I hope this was a bit of light relief after San Junipero AU! (And if you'd rather hmu on twitter, I'm @rositabustiiios).
> 
> See you next week for the final instalment of this edition of San Junipero AU, and the penultimate of this fic. Have a lovely weekend, take care!!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole has something very special planned for Waverly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Important note to begin on! Please be aware I've put the rating up from T to M. There's an argument that a few little bits of this border on E? But in typical fashion for me I couldn't really decide. Answers on a postcard, I guess.
> 
> So with that kinda spoilery declaration in mind, just be aware if smutty stuff isn't really for you that things to steam up a little bit. 
> 
> I'm such a broken record, but I really want to thank everyone for all their lovely comments on this fic and, of course, San Junipero AU. You guys make my heart swell. I don't deserve all that kindness for these crazy, cheesy, nonsensical AUs, and yet you guys are unendingly kind. Thank you, really.

Waverly spends the next few days on a cloud, all the while trying to make it seem as though her feet are planted firmly on the ground.

Wynonna, who eventually snags some time off, notices that something is up and Waverly spends a good amount of time worrying that she and Nicole have been caught out.

(And, with all the making out they have been doing in corridors that they only half-check to be deserted, they are hardly being subtle about it.)

In the end, however, it transpires that Wynonna had not been clued in at all.

She is not completely off base initially, cornering Waverly one night soon after she finds out that Waverly and Nicole went to the open-air cinema.

The sisters are both in bed relatively early, for once choosing to prioritise sleep over any other experiences that might be forthcoming.

Alongside the feeling of bliss at her new union with Nicole, something else had been settling under Waverly’s skin all day. It was an ineffable sort of feeling, one that she had struggled to really pinpoint. It was not entirely positive, but bittersweet in a strange way. She feels wistful without truly knowing the reason for it.

Wynonna, however, is in good spirits after a day away from the sports bar and, out of nowhere, she says -

“So, who’s truck have you been borrowing recently then?”

Her voice cuts through the darkness, catching Waverly unawares in more ways than one when the unexpected noise makes her jump.

She feels her heart start to race.

“Sorry?” she asks, buying time.

“Waves, c’mon,” Wynonna says, sounding amused. “It’s obvious you’ve got something going on that I don’t know about. You’ve been even more chipper than usual.”

“So I _must_ be sleeping with someone?” Waverly asks, trying to play the comment as a joke. “Because I’m really not.”

(It is not technically a lie. She and Nicole have not yet slept together, although this is not perhaps for want of trying. Usually, they simply do not have the privacy for extended periods of time.)

“I don’t believe you,” Wynonna says, although a little of the surety has left her voice. “There’s...something. And you can’t hide it from me forever.”  

Waverly feels her heart start to hammer so strongly that it almost seems as though it is rattling her ribs together.

“Is there anything I could say to you that would fundamentally change your opinion of me?” she asks suddenly and Wynonna goes quiet for a moment before replying.

“Okay, that sounds like you definitely have some _very_ weird sex thing going on, and I’m going to be disappointed now if you say you don’t.”

“ _Wynonna_. I’m being serious.”

“I mean, not really? Unless you’re going to say that me and Aquaman are never going to have our sexy, forbidden little love story.”

“Wynonna, he’s fictio- ”

“Do you really want to go there Wave?”

“I’m bi.”

Waverly says the words so sharply and so quickly that it must take Wynonna a moment to process them.

When they were kids Waverly would tell Wynonna things in almost exactly the same way, her voice cutting through the dark of their shared bedroom.

Willa was the oldest, so only she had a space of her own. Waverly and Wynonna shared the remaining room.

Waverly had taken the top bunk back then, too.

She waits for Wynonna to speak, and when she does her response makes Waverly’s heart ache in the best of ways.

“For serious?”

She had always used that phrase for all their late night confessionals. Always those few syllables.

Quietly, and with a lump in her throat, Waverly says,

“For serious.”

After that, Wynonna catches on easily to what Waverly is trying to say.

Or rather, she does so in a way that is wholeheartedly _Wynonna_.

“So you’re doing the weird sex stuff with Nicole?”

“ _No_ , jeez.”

“Ha! Boring sex stuff then. I knew that cop was vanilla as hell.”

“We haven’t done anything like that. We’re - I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it properly.”

“But I get to do the big sister routine right?”

“I mean, I’d really rather you didn’t.”

“But it’s applicable to the situation? Like you two are doing _something_ right now?”

“I guess so, yeah.” There is a pause for a moment and, still nervous, Waverly listens to Wynonna’s steady breathing.

“So you’ve really liked her all this time?”

“Yes,” Waverly admits, voice barely coming out at all.

“And you left it until what, a week or so ago to have all your _fun_?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a total idiot kiddo.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

As responses to coming out go, ‘you’re an idiot’ could be much worse. But still, Waverly is scared.

Still, she needs to hear it.

“This won’t change anything, will it? Between us?”

“Are you kidding me?” Wynonna asks, sounding shocked at the prospect. “I love you dude. I love everything about you. And being bi is part of _you_ , so I love that as well.”

There are tears in Waverly's eyes, ready to trickle down and onto the pillow as she tries to whisper her thanks.

“I didn’t do anything,” Wynonna says and Waverly can hear the smile in her voice.

Wynonna lets Waverly compose herself before speaking again.

“Do Gus and Curtis know? Is that a thing I can ask?”

“No,” Waverly says, before clarifying quickly. “I mean, no they don’t know. Not unless they’ve worked it out and I highly doubt it. I want to tell them but…”

She does not elucidate, but Wynonna hears her anyway.

“I know what you’re thinking. Sure, they’re a product of their environment. But they love you just as much as I do. I think, whenever you’re ready, it’ll be okay.”

“I’m just glad I finally got to tell you. I’ve been trying to psych myself up all vacation but I was too chickenshit.”

“That’s really weird, because I think you’ve always been the bravest person I’ve ever known Waverly.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Babygirl?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you told me before you left. That you were able to do it in person.”

Waverly hears the implication in Wynonna’s voice - _I’m glad there was still time for you to tell me_ \- and it hits her then, the source of that sad feeling.

She is living with the creeping realisation that this cannot go on for much longer.

Their money is not limitless, and Nicole’s start date at the Academy is in late September. She needs to arrive well in advance to get everything ready - leaving barely two weeks. Waverly should be home by then too, just in case.

She wishes fervently that she could freeze the picture, because almost everything good that has ever happened to her has come about on this trip.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Almost as soon as this thought occurs to her, then the heavens align yet again.

She had almost forgotten that she has another life elsewhere, one that she has to go home to eventually.

And then, one morning shortly after her late-night admission to Wynonna, she awakes to an email that reminds her just why she had come to Greece in the first place.

Waverly had slept late because they had been up, yet again, until the small hours.

Wynonna had clearly already left to prepare for the lunch shift at work, and Waverly finds two important notifications on her cell phone when she eventually drags herself out of bed.

The first is a text from Nicole, stating that she is relaxing in her dorm and waiting for Waverly to get up.

The second is an email from her college, with the subject line Waverly has been dreaming about for years…

 

 

 

 

 

 

She barely bothers to dress properly, just throws on the first pair of shorts she can find and borrows one of Wynonna’s clean shirts.

She has only been to Nicole’s dorm a few times but she knows the way well enough.

She does not stop to consider who else might be inside, she simply gets to the door and bangs against it.

When a somewhat confused-looking Nicole answers, Waverly does not wait for any words or greetings. She does not wait to ask, although propriety states she ought to have.

She bursts inside and sits herself on the bed she knows to be Nicole’s. The steady beat-beat of her heart had been surpassed in intensity only by the way it had felt as she readied herself to come out to Wynonna.

This couldn’t be happening.

 _None of this could be happening_.

She is beaming, she is buoyant. She is in the place of her dreams, she is sitting in front of the girl of her other dreams, and somewhere in the city is her sister - her very best friend in all the world. And now, things are even better. Things are, perhaps, completely faultless.

Nicole watches from a few feet away, and she is smiling. “I got your message with all the jumbled letters, hadn’t quite cracked the code yet though.”

“I have something to tell you,” Waverly says, breathless even as she sits and bounces one of her feet up and down.

“I did guess as much, and I am all ears.”

“I got my funding. Nicole, I got my PhD funding.”

Nicole’s smile grows as, without any hesitation, she ducks towards Waverly to pull her close and kiss her senseless.

“I knew it baby,” Nicole murmurs when they break apart for a moment. “I knew you’d do it.”

Quickly glancing about the small dorm to assess whether they are alone, Waverly just locks her hands at Nicole’s neck and pulls her in again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Is Wynonna in?” Nicole gasps against her lips.

“No, she’s working.”

“How long?”

“ _Long enough_.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I don’t want to do this if you’re not ready.”

Nicole is on top of her, their bodies pressed firmly together. There is no way she cannot feel the heat of Waverly’s core against her thigh, no way she could miss the damp slide of Waverly’s underwear.

She _knows_ Waverly is ready. And still she asks.

Champ never used to be able to tell if she even came.

So maybe this is just a holiday romance, but maybe it really is more than that.

 

 

 

 

 

For the first and only time of the trip so far, Waverly questions her choice of the top bunk.

The bed-frame’s structural integrity no longer seems to be a given when Nicole’s touch has her writhing and squirming from the first moment.

The metal makes an unholy noise as they move, but then again so does Waverly when she peaks hard with Nicole’s head buried firmly between her legs.

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Nicole rejoins her against the pillow - her lips and chin gleaming in a way that makes Waverly feel as though she is ready all over again - she holds Waverly close and insists oh-so softly that she doesn’t expect her to reciprocate.

Probably, she can feel Waverly’s nerves because, in that moment, nothing has ever seemed quite so daunting to Waverly as trying to repay the favour.

Nicole had just made her feel like she could see the whole damn universe behind her eyes, and she had made the whole thing seem effortless. In comparison, Waverly’s fingers are shaking even as she starts coasting them over the waistband of Nicole’s underwear.

The poky single bed is too small for them and the room’s ceiling fan is completely ineffectual. As they lay squashed together, side-by-side on their backs, Waverly feels as though her skin is on fire wherever their bodies meet.

Partly this is spiritual and metaphorical, the after-effect of Nicole giving her one of the best orgasms of her life on the first try. Partly, it is just really fucking hot.

Waverly feels the sweat pool on her skin and almost wants to scoot away, not wanting to gross Nicole out.

But Nicole seems completely content as she dances her palm _low_ over Waverly’s stomach in an easy, affectionate gesture.

Waverly has her face pressed close to Nicole’s neck and it is easy for her to whisper into Nicole’s ear, quiet as anything.

“I want to try.” She pauses, dotting little kisses over Nicole’s jaw. “But - ”

“Then just try,” Nicole tells her quietly and ever so kindly. “There’s literally nothing bad that could happen.”

“There is. What if I can’t...what if you don’t...?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Nicole murmurs. “It’s not about that.”

“It’s not?” Waverly questions, thinking back to her time with Champ.

“I’ll just like being close to you, intimate with you.” She gives a self-conscious little laugh. “Plus I’m uh, I’m pretty ready. I guarantee the fact that it’s you touching me will pretty much do the trick anyway.”

“Okay,” Waverly says with resolve, a tiny quiver in her voice at Nicole’s admission. “Okay, yes.”

And so Nicole takes Waverly’s hand in her own and slips them both together beneath her boxer briefs. Nicole encourages Waverly’s fingers to explore a little, and the latter is hit immediately with the sensation of warm and wet - _God, she’s so wet_ \- and velvety soft.

The moment Waverly’s fingers hit home, the two of them choke out an identical cry of pleasure, their voices mingling into one.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nicole is soft and quiet in her ecstasy, unlike Waverly who had forgotten herself entirely.

She guides Waverly’s fingers, whispers _just like you’d do it to yourself baby_ in a husky voice that is weighed down by pleasure, and that instruction alone is enough to make Waverly squirm and clench her own legs together.

Waverly amends each action based on Nicole’s own preferences and reactions. Nicole communicates wonderfully, just enough direction that Waverly does not feel cast adrift, and after barely five minutes she has the rather obvious realisation that this is better viewed as any first time with someone new. You have to learn to map everyone’s body, it doesn’t matter what kind of body they have.

Once this makes sense to her, she gives herself into the experience and she thinks Nicole feels the moment Waverly’s own mindset shifts.

Nicole eases back more in the most metaphorical of senses, trusting herself to lose control a little bit and know that Waverly won’t feel that she has been abandoned to work things out for herself.

Indeed, by the time Nicole is on the precipice with her head tipped back and her eyes squeezed shut, Waverly knows that this is easily one of the most sensual experiences of her life. She feels as though she could easily come again, just from the way it feels to see her own hand disappearing down Nicole’s underwear, or just from watching and hearing Nicole fall apart.

But Nicole must feel that fresh flush of Waverly’s arousal too, because right as her thighs start to tremble and her hips reach off the mattress, she slides a hand down Waverly’s belly again. This time, however, she has a different goal entirely.

It only serves to highlight just how painfully turned on Waverly had become again when Nicole’s fingers slide through her wetness. It takes her by surprise when Nicole touches her like that, and as a result it only takes a few inelegant, clumsy sweeps of Nicole’s fingertips across her centre. With a cry that she had not realised she possessed, Waverly falls with Nicole, almost at the same time.

She would be embarrassed at how easily Nicole had won that second one from her, but Nicole does not seem to have any complaints at all. In fact, she is on Waverly the moment they both withdraw their hands. She pulls Waverly on top of her and kisses her deep until Waverly forgets that there is anything else in the whole wide world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Following another successful attempt at drawing Nicole over the edge with her fingers (just to hone her technique after all), Waverly conducts an exploratory mission with her mouth and tongue (and honestly? She had not expected to enjoy the oral side of things _that_ much). Almost immediately after, Waverly dozes off into a pleasant little nap with Nicole’s naked body curled around her.

She is aware enough to know that they cannot linger - she could not bear the embarrassment of Wynonna finding her like this - but is content enough to snooze for a little while, until Nicole is forced to unstick herself and clamber down for the bathroom.

“Do you want to go out for a bit?” she asks Waverly when she returns, trailing around the room and looking for something whilst still unabashedly naked. Feeling shameless, Waverly watches Nicole’s body as she moves and she cannot even spare a blush when Nicole catches her looking.

Eventually, Nicole finds her phone still wedged into the back pocket of her shorts. She checks the time. They have spent much of the afternoon wrapped up in each other, and although Waverly cannot say it is how she expected to pass her day she does not think she would have traded it for anything else in the world.

“We could get a bite to eat since we missed lunch, I owe you that celebratory drink anyway. Then I uh, I actually have a plan for this evening. If it works out it’ll be kind of a surprise - if you wanted to play along?”

Intrigued, Waverly cocks her head. “You put together a surprise for tonight?”

“Well it didn’t necessarily have to be tonight. If you wanted to do something else we could do my thing some other evening.” For the first time, a little look of insecurity passes over Nicole’s face. “Or not at all, not if you don’t want…”

“Of course I want to Nicole,” Waverly says, sitting up and crooking a finger in a _come over here_ sort of gesture. “I just can’t believe you’ve arranged a whole thing.”

Grinning, Nicole obliges and climbs a few rungs of the ladder so that Waverly can shift on the bed and kiss her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

They do make it outside eventually, after a shower that Waverly suspects is going to be one of the more memorable in her life.

For the first time since her initial week in Athens, Waverly returns to the heart of the little historical district with company. This time, however, she is with Nicole instead of Wynonna.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she makes a note to arrange a dinner with both of them together before everyone goes their separate ways.

Since learning about Waverly and Nicole, Wynonna has only upped her verbal onslaught on the latter - but Waverly can tell that her sister approves. With the exception of Gus, Curtis, and Chrissy Nedley, there are no other people on earth that Waverly would want to spend time with.

It is only difficult trying to pull Wynonna out of work sometimes. It is clear that she does not enjoy it, but she needs the money if she is to continue travelling and keep away from Purgatory.  

Waverly misses Wynonna when she is not around, but things between her and Nicole are easy and comfortable beyond all imagination.

They chatter away as they sit outside a small cafe, or occasionally they pause to eat or check their phones.

Waverly catches sight of a picture Nicole receives - a few of her hostel buddies in lifejackets aboard brightly-coloured kayaks.

“They’re making fun of me,” Nicole says when she catches Waverly looking. “Because I had a ticket to join them, but didn’t bother in the end.”

Nicole says this completely unassumingly, and does not seem to realise that she has passed on totally new information to Waverly.

“Hang on,” Waverly says, eyes on her dish as she contends with her vegetable soup. “I didn’t know you were supposed to be leaving.”

Across the table, Nicole is picking olives out of her side salad. “Yeah, it was something I arranged with a few of those guys. The plan was for kind of around mid-slash-late-August time.”

“So what changed?” Waverly asks, snagging the olives on Nicole’s plate. It was an unspoken thing that Nicole set them aside for her.

For a moment, Nicole does not respond and after a few beats of silence, Waverly looks up from her food. She finds Nicole staring at her with a look of pure, unbridled incredulity on her face, almost as if to say _oh, come on_.

Even then, it takes Waverly a few more seconds before it clicks.

 _Oh_.

Waverly struggles for a moment to reconcile this new information.

“You stayed for…?”

“For you, yeah,” Nicole says, and although there is perhaps a slight blush on her neck she does not look away or falter. “Because I didn’t want to give up on a chance of something with you. I told the others some crap about feeling at home here, but I’m pretty sure everyone knew I was lying.”

Waverly continues staring across the table, her food momentarily forgotten.

She had watched all of Nicole’s new friends and acquaintances head off to new places, never knowing that Nicole had initially wanted to go with them. _Nicole had stayed_. She had changed her plans because she wanted more time, because she had thought there might be a chance between them.

Waverly thinks of Wynonna, of how she had spent all this money just so that they could spent the summer together.

She thinks back to Nicole, who gave up the opportunity to travel somewhere new because she had not wanted to risk missing out on something with Waverly.

It brings a lump to her throat, because no one had ever, ever done things like this for her before.

Nicole sees the emotion on her face and she smiles gently, reaching out a hand across the table and squeezing Waverly’s fingers.

After a moment, Waverly recovers herself and there is one obvious query on her mind.

“So, in that case, can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

“It might sound a bit mean though,” Waverly says, “but I don’t mean it that way. I’m literally just curious.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Nicole says, voice teasing and light.

“If you liked me from the start, if you stuck around for longer, why didn’t you just kiss me all the times I tried to make sure we were alone together?”

Waverly watches as an earnest, thoughtful expression settles over Nicole’s face. She visibly bites at the inside of her cheek as she maps out her answer. After a long while, she speaks.

“Okay so like, honestly?” Nicole says, pausing and waiting for Waverly to nod. “I really struggled to get a read on you for a while. The first day at breakfast I totally thought you were into girls, but then for ages after it was almost like you drew back a little and I just couldn’t tell. And reasonably I know I should have done more to find out, but I didn’t want to be too pushy because I wanted you to like me and not think I was coming on too strong.”

“ _You_ wanted _me_ to like you?”

A vague look of insecurity passes briefly over Nicole’s face.

“Yes…”

Waverly snorts. “I spent forever worrying that you’d think I was completely boring and you wouldn’t want to know me at all.”

“Why would I think you were boring Waverly?” Nicole asks, a deep look of confusion wrinkling her brow beautifully. She says this with such disbelief that it knocks Waverly sideways for a moment.

Recovering eventually, she says, “you’ve travelled, you’re from the city - you’re gonna be a cop. I’ve never been out my town before now and I just - I guess I didn’t feel interesting enough.”

At this, Nicole laughs. From anyone else, Waverly might think to be upset, but she knows by now that Nicole would never do anything deliberately cruel.

“You know basically everything about this place,” Nicole says, gesturing vaguely at the nearby Parthenon. “You’re smart, you’re passionate, you’re funny; you’re _beautiful_. So I must have done a bad, bad job of flirting if you could ever think I wasn’t interested in you in every possible sense of the word.”

Quickly, Waverly shakes her head. Nicole’s words hit her in the ribs one-by-one, and she does not think anyone has ever made a compliment aimed at her feel sound so easy and genuine.

“You didn’t do a bad job, I just kept getting too nervous because I liked you so much. It made it hard to judge whether you were super into me or whether you were just messing about a bit I guess.”

“And did all my hanging around you not help?” Nicole says, a playful twinkle in her eye.

Waverly gives a sheepish little grin. “I know, I know. It should have.”

“I honestly can’t believe you didn’t work out that I was staying around as a hint that I was into you.”

“I think I didn’t really believe you’d want me. _Want_ want me, you know?”

“Well then, it’s time we set the record straight isn’t it,” Nicole says, looking as though she wants to make a comment on her choice of words, but ultimately deciding against it. “I want you Waverly. I want every part of you that you want to give me.”

Silently, Waverly decides that she could happily give Nicole everything - if only she had the chance.

The problem, however, is that she just cannot tell if that is going to be possible.

One city apart seems more than do-abale.

One city apart seems too good to be true.

 

 

 

 

 

 

After Nicole checks her watch for the fifth time, Waverly starts wondering just what is in store this evening.

She asks a few probing questions but Nicole only smiles knowingly and says, “I can see what you’re trying to do.”

She does not rush them and their meal is leisurely and long - there is even time for a hearty portion of baklava for Nicole and an enormous fruit salad for Waverly.

However, Nicole is still the one who mentions when it is probably time to leave. She once again insists on paying, because Waverly is a PhD student now and apparently that deserves to be celebrated.

She also sets the direction in which they walk, but it quickly becomes obvious anyway that they are heading for the Acropolis.

“Nicole…” Waverly tries as they begin their ascent, but it is obvious from the little look on Nicole’s face that it is pointless trying to point out the site is now closed to visitors. The desk closes before the last stragglers are ushered out in the evening, and unless a corporate private tour can be afforded, there is no access at this time.

“I have a friend,” Nicole says, offering up nothing more by way of explanation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nicole’s ‘friend’ turns out to be a young man with a sweet, earnest face and an unruly mop of dark curls.

And, if Waverly’s initial instinct is correct, he is not a _friend_. Not from his side of the large iron barrier, at least. He seems to be expecting them, a set of keys in his hand as he waits to lock up for the night. The last tourists will be able to leave through another exit which is closed last, Waverly knows this already but she had never ventured to think about what Nicole is intending to try and do...

“We met a couple times at the rock climbing site here,” Nicole explains, introducing him as Alex. Waverly tips him a little smile and offers a word of greeting, looking at his boyish, handsome face and trying to read his expression.

Apparently Alex is a college student from one of the rural towns outside the city, who works some of the tourist attractions to keep his funds ticking over.

“History too,” Nicole explains with a big smile. “Waverly just got her PhD funding through.”

He congratulates her warmly enough, but his eyes track back to Nicole expectantly, waiting for her to speak again. When she does, he watches her face intently and Waverly cannot suppress a smile.

She knows Alex’s expression all too well. She wears it herself whenever she is with Nicole.

“The tickets are already prepaid, as you know,” Nicole says directly to Alex. “If you’re still happy to sneak us in I would be eternally grateful.”

Alex’s eyes track briefly between them, but it is somehow clear that he does not detect the true nature of Waverly and Nicole’s connection.

As it is, he barely lingers on Waverly, returning to Nicole every time and smiling.

“You’ll have to head up there quickly,” he says sweetly, and Waverly feels a pang of sympathy for him. “Much more time and you’ll need another explanation as to how you got in so late.”

Nicole smiles back, her expression grateful. “I won’t get you into any trouble, I promise.”

As Alex scrabbles to let them through and lock the gate behind them, Waverly is forced to once again bite the insides of her cheeks.

Either Nicole is completely oblivious to male attention, or she is impervious to it - because it is clear from the hopeful little look on Alex’s face that he is doing this favour (and breaking probably fifty rules) with an obvious and strong crush running in the background.

As selfishly grateful as she is for Nicole’s ignorance, Waverly still feels for the poor guy. She understands how it feels to get caught in Nicole’s light and grow desperate to cling to it, like turning your face into the gentle evening sun.

On the other hand, however, it is something of a relief to see that Nicole does not pay his subtle flirtations any mind. She only seems to have eyes for Waverly, which is not something the latter is remotely accustomed to.

“It was really sweet of him to offer me this favour when we first met,” Nicole says once they are out of earshot, and Waverly cannot hold back a smile. “And to actually stick to his word when I asked him if I could bring you here.”

“I don’t think he really imagined you’d be bringing me along, though.”

Nicole flashes her a look that Waverly reads as _what do you mean_?

Waverly snorts. “He offered to put his job in jeopardy because he _likes_ you Nicole. He was trying to get you to spend more time with him. He wants something to happen, trust me.”

“Waverly that’s not true at all,” Nicole says, but she does not sound entirely certain.

“I was watching that poor dude’s face. He’s practically _in love_ with you.”

A mingled look of realisation and pure horror passes over Nicole’s face. “Oh God…”

Waverly feels bad for her, but she cannot stop herself from laughing deeply.

“And you had the audacity to poke fun of _me_ for not realising you were hanging around the city for me. But hey, it’s super cute that you can’t even tell when a guy is massively flirting with you.”

“You know I can always send us right back down this hill, yeah?”

They look at each other and laugh and, as soon as they are alone, Nicole takes her hand and holds it all the way to the top of the hill.

 

 

 

 

 

 

What with the distraction provided by Alex’s crush, it takes Waverly a remarkably long time to truly register that Nicole has put together a surprise that involves getting Waverly access to the top of the Acropolis with almost no other people around.

More than that, Nicole must have had this in the works for at least a short while - because she had already paid for the tickets and thought to call in her favour with her rock-climbing friend.

Waverly feels something in her chest flutter at the thought, because between this and the open-air cinema Waverly does not think she has ever _heard_ of two more romantic things, let alone experienced them for herself.

It almost makes her nervous, because whether intentionally or not, Nicole seems hell-bent on doing everything that might make Waverly fall completely head over heels for her.

At most, they both have only a few more weeks in the city, and Waverly does not want to have to say her goodbyes to either of the women who have made her summer so very special.

With Wynonna, at least, there is every chance to keep in contact and plan for the future.

With Nicole on the other hand, this is what so many people might call a summer romance.

But, after wonderful, blissful days like this one, Nicole keeps making it incredibly hard for Waverly to let go.

And more than that, after she has shown herself to be so thoughtful, engaged, and dedicated to tailoring their time together to Waverly’s interests, it is hard to tell whether Nicole wants to let go either.

They have not had that talk - the one about what happens when they both go home - and Waverly is much too scared to risk the happiness between them right now by asking the wrong questions.

Because oh, is she happy.

When they finally reach the peak of the hill, the view that greets them steals Waverly’s breath almost as much as Nicole does.

There is almost no one left at the top, and for the first time Waverly can marvel at the work of the ancients people without any barriers.

She is conscious, immediately, of how long she took to explore in Sounio and turns immediately to Nicole.

“Thank you,” she says, feeling bold enough to risk a deep, lingering kiss in the shade of a resilient stone column.

“You like it?” Nicole says when they break apart. “It’s not too much?”

“It’s incredible - I can’t believe you arranged this for me. So no, never too much. But I promise I won’t keep you as long as I did last time.”

“Hey,” Nicole counters with a kind laugh. “I paid for these tickets. You take whatever time you can - I can’t say this will be a favour I’ll ever be able to call in again. Besides, I love watching you go all scholar anyway.”

“Really?” Waverly asks, eyebrows raised in an expression of disbelief.

“Waverly, c’mon. You don’t even realise what it’s like to see you in places like this. I wish you could get even a glimpse of how you look,” Nicole says sincerely, something in her expression burning between them. “I wish you could see it like I could; how beautiful you are like this.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Slowly, the sun drifts downwards and as the light gradually fades, Waverly explores. She gets closer to each building than she had ever believed possible, and she takes the kinds of photos she had only ever dreamed about.

Arguably, there is precious little that the physical presence of these buildings can teach her that she has not already read before, but there is something more to it than that.

It is about how it _feels_.

It is about the marvel of standing here amongst these old stalwarts of antiquity - it gives her more insight than a college class could ever impart.

This moment is not something tangible, but it is completely perfect in the most indescribable of ways.

Aware that they are probably mostly safe up here now, Nicole does not let go of her hand even when they are visible to the few others still ambling about. Most are equally captivated by the ancient relics or the panoramic view of the city, and they do not have eyes for Waverly and Nicole.

Nicole encourages Waverly to talk about what they are seeing, and she watches with a beautiful, moony smile on her face when Waverly answers in depth.

She lets a giggly, impulsive Waverly drag her behind the set of caryatids from the earlier visit with Wynonna. They are completely obscured and completely unapologetic when their lips find each other for far longer than either one of them would admit later.

Nicole’s arms pull their bodies close together, while her lips find every inch of Waverly’s face and jaw, and with the memory of their afternoon still bold and vivid in both of their minds, Waverly feels her blood start to simmer again.

In return, Nicole shivers when Waverly kisses her on the lips again and her bottom teeth scrape beautifully against Nicole’s skin.

If it weren’t for the fear of getting caught, Waverly could stay like this forever…

 

 

 

 

 

 

They make a detour via Waverly’s bedroom on their way to meet Wynonna for a quick dinner made from whatever Nicole has left in the hostel’s fridge.

Waverly still does not have the gall to text Wynonna for use of the room so they take their chances with as much as they can get.

“Lack of privacy has never felt so frustrating,” Nicole murmurs into Waverly’s ear as they lay cuddled together, Nicole’s shorts and underwear still hooked as one over one of her ankles and Waverly’s dress bunched at her waist.

They had made the gargantuan effort to pull the thin sheet up to their hips as they took a moment to catch their breath.

Waverly chuckles. “Well for now, we’re safe. She’s in the kitchen wondering when we’ll be back.”

Nicole shifts from her back onto her side and lands a kiss on Waverly’s temple before propping herself up on one elbow.

“Is it awful that I almost, almost want to tell her we’ll be out for hours?”

The thought of a near-endless stretch of time wound against Nicole makes Waverly’s heart race.

She almost feels torn, wanting this private time with Nicole but not wanting to miss a single second with her sister either. She knows that Nicole understands this, and would never seriously make such a suggestion.

“I just feel like I’m cramming everything into the last few weeks now,” Waverly admits. “I hate that we didn’t do this sooner.”

Nicole runs her hands through Waverly’s hair, playing with the loose ends.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, and the weight of her tone makes Waverly’s heart twist.

She sets her phone to one side, and cranes up for a kiss. Her hand latches against Nicole’s cheek as she leans down and grazes their lips together; quick and soft and beautifully habitual.

“You don’t have to be sorry Nicole,” Waverly says as Nicole nudges their noses together. “I didn’t mean that anyone has any blame, just that I really hate that the summer is ending. That it’s all ending.”

She is laying down a heavy hint and her heart rates shoots up again as she waits to see if Nicole picks up on it.

“I hate it too,” she says softly, approaching the issue gently but with enough intonation that Waverly can see that she is giving a hint of her own right back.

“Does it _have_ to end?” Waverly whispers, so nervous she can feel the trembling of her hand where it is rests against Nicole’s face.

“No, it doesn’t,” Nicole says pointedly, voice still a whisper. “Not if you don’t want it to.”

Waverly understands that this is Nicole’s way of making an unspoken offer, but she needs perhaps a little more certainty than that. She does not want to look back on this conversation in the days and weeks to come and have even a moment’s worry that she had only heard what she wanted to hear.

Carefully, Waverly pulls away so that she can look Nicole in the eye.

“Do _you_?”

Nicole searches Waverly’s face for a moment, looking almost painfully unsure of herself as she does. For the first time, Waverly stops to wonder whether Nicole has always felt the same as she, Waverly, had. She feels guilty to think it had never occurred to her before, that she is not the only one who has been too scared to come across as wanting something too serious.

In a scant attempt at reassurance, Waverly drops one more chaste peck to Nicole’s lips.

After Waverly pulls back again, Nicole lets her settle before holding her gaze.

“No,” she says eventually. “No I never want this to end.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Typically I always get a bit sheepish when I post anything vaguely bordering on smutty stuff. I hope this felt natural and in-keeping. 
> 
> As ever, please let me know what you think! There's a short conclusion to this fic coming up next week, and I'm starting to seriously consider that my Christmas fic won't be posted by the time I had in mind (Christmas Eve). Things have got so busy with me because of the festive season, and I'm working on an og project alongside all the fic projects I'm writing for you guys. I'm sure no one will mind a slightly belated Christmas fic, but I promise I'm gonna write like mad to try and finish it. 
> 
> As ever, I'd love to hear from you! The best places are here, or @rositabustiiios/@alissawrites on twitter, although I'm notoriously slow at replying, for which I'm really really sorry.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things must come to an end, and it is no different for Waverly who must finally say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh this little (ish) fic is over too! My kids...
> 
> I can't work out if I'll feel a little bereft without two wips on the go concurrently, or if it will feel like I've somehow met a deadline. At a guess, it will be the latter for two weeks and then I'll start wildly casting about for something else to improbably bend to fit Wayhaught/Wynonna Earp. So this is the part where I say that if you have any AU/oneshot requests you should definitely lmk. I can't promise I'll write stuff, but '...Lifted' came about from just such a request from me. 
> 
> In the meantime, I hope this short conclusion will hit the right notes, and if you're into the cheesy, fluffy, almost romcom vibe then I have just that on the go until Christmas in a sort Hallmarky-esque AU which I started posting earlier in the week. So not to plug my other fics but that's exactly what I'm doing. 
> 
> But now I shall be quiet and get on with the final chapter.

Waverly’s last few weeks in Greece seem to vanish into thin air. 

Wynonna turns down almost every shift at the bar in order to spend as much as time as possible with Waverly. In turn, Nicole is wonderfully sensitive about Waverly’s unspoken desire to manage her time as fairly as possible. 

Waverly never once has to ask Nicole or drop any hints. Somehow, she just  _ knows _ .

In fact, if she ever misjudges a situation it is usually because she errs on what she sees to be the side of caution and decides to remove herself from a planned meal or trip around the city.

That, however, is easily rectifiable with a quick text to reassure Nicole that no, she is not intruding. 

Indeed, Wynonna would never admit it, but she enjoys having Nicole around.

They still squabble near-constantly, but Waverly knows how much Wynonna loves it when people can meet her little challenges head on and refuse to shrink away. 

As kids, they had been used to people walking on eggshells around them - scared that they would implode after what happened to Willa and their father. 

Those who stood steadfast - the likes of Gus, Shorty, and (to a degree) Curtis - had always been the ones who cared enough to try and keep the girls anchored down. 

This is, of course, not how Wynonna sees Nicole’s ability to banter back and forth, but it is all born of the same inherent respect she possesses for those who simply tackle things head-on without balking. 

In many ways, it is a relief when Wynonna does not immediately start treating Nicole differently. 

Of course, for a few days Waverly’s mind runs amock. Of course she wonders if Wynonna might hide any disapproval now behind a smokescreen of her pre-existing dynamic with Nicole. 

But the truth is that Waverly is not doubting Wynonna, she is doubting herself. 

For as easily as she falls into almost every aspect of romance with another woman, there are still so many things she had never considered. She forgets often that she cannot simply take Nicole’s hand, that she cannot kiss her or seek contact with her whenever she wants. 

On a few occasions, she even acts before she thinks and she feels Nicole freeze after a stray look from Waverly or even, on one occasion, a public kiss on the cheek. 

Usually, Wynonna is there to carry the moment along, and nothing bad has ever happened. Nicole always apologises - unnecessarily - and the issue is forgotten.

That is one thing that might be mitigated when they are back at home, although they are still loathe to vocalise too many future plans lest the act of speaking them become an albatross of sorts. 

Wynonna, on the other hand, seems to have made the assumption that Waverly and Nicole are a couple now, and makes throwaway comments without even realising. 

(“You better not be around when Waverly calls me from home, Haught. I want to use the privilege of being oceans away.”

“Like I’d ever want to talk to you again anyway, Earp.”)

This is the closest they come to Wynonna’s seal of approval, with the exception only of the time that, after perhaps one too many glasses of whiskey, Wynonna tells them both that Nicole is a one hundred percent upgrade from Champ. 

Waverly does not say anything on the matter, but she privately thinks that this is not much of a compliment. Champ had been awful to her, and he set the bar impossibly low. 

Nicole, however, is another story entirely.

She sets every bar high, because she always gives with everything she has. Whether it is something as simple as a stray look or touch, or whether she is trying to think of fun things to do, she always puts her heart and soul into everything. 

What’s more, she never asks for anything in return.

This is why, on her final week, Waverly suggests a repeat evening city bike tour, a trip to the climbing centre, and another excursion to the port town so that Nicole can at least go swimming once more. 

In the end, they eschew the rock climbing as Nicole takes pity on both sisters and saves them from what they both consider to be a fate worse than death. She does, however, gratefully accept the other offers as her final opportunities to repeat some of her favourite activities of the summer. 

They cycle round the city as a trio, although Wynonna pretends she is there under duress, and Waverly must concede that it really is one of the best ways to see the city. 

Wynonna makes a point of giving an exaggerated wink on their return to the hostel later that night after dinner, as she makes a beeline for the bar. 

“I’ll see you down there,” she says, laughing loudly at Waverly’s blush as she goes. 

When they are alone, Nicole grins. “Baby I think she knows we sleep together.”

“I know  _ that _ ,” Waverly says, casting about for a decent explanation as to why she should be so embarrassed when Wynonna brings it up. 

“And I think, given her own views on you guys giving each other private time, that she really doesn’t care.”

“Oh, Wynonna definitely doesn’t care about that kind of stuff.” 

Bending down for a long, leisurely kiss, Nicole says, “it’s the nicest thing she’s ever done for me.” 

Waverly goes to laugh, but then their lips meet and all the air gets sucked out of her lungs. It never fails to blow her away, the feeling of Nicole kissing her with all that lust and hunger between them. 

(In the interests of complete and total reciprocity, the next day during their visit to Piraeus, Nicole makes a show of excusing herself for an evening walk at dinnertime. She does not say as much, but it is clear she wants to give the sisters some time to themselves. 

When she thinks Waverly isn’t looking, Wynonna flashes Nicole a deep, grateful look. 

Waverly wouldn’t mind betting that Nicole and Wynonna never discuss these sorts of things further, but it fills her with more happiness than she can readily describe, knowing that these two forces for good in her life share a mutual respect that was never present where Champ was concerned.) 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“I hate this, but it’s time kiddo,” Wynonna says one afternoon, poking her head out from the bottom bunk and looking upwards. 

Nicole and Waverly are sat side-by-side above her, all three of them taking a much-needed reprieve from the lunchtime sun. 

“I know, I know,” Waverly says with a sigh, feeling unreasonably teary. 

“Better we get you booked on the flight now before it sells out,” Wynonna says, her own voice thick. “You two might as well travel together.” 

Nicole nods her own silent agreement, her hand finding Waverly’s knee and giving it a little squeeze. 

It is time for the expensive, open-ended return ticket to be given a date and time of travel. 

They have all skirted the topic, and it was Wynonna who first suggested that, if Nicole’s destination was Calgary, they should travel together.

She had even ventured to suggest that it might be a little easier on Waverly to part from them both gradually; as though somehow you could stagger increments of sadness. 

Still, Waverly appreciates the suggestion, as much as she appreciates her family’s kind donation of such an expensive travel ticket (she knows inherently that Wynonna could not have afforded this all on her own - good will alone is not an accepted currency, after all). 

Wynonna double- and then triple-check’s Nicole’s itinerary before tapping on her phone. 

A moment later, Waverly’s own phone buzzes with an email:  _ Your Flight Times Have Been Updated _ .

Nicole peers over at Waverly’s screen as she opens up the information and goes to unlock her own phone in turn. 

Just as Waverly thinks to make a joke about how unsociable they are being, Nicole tilts her device in Waverly’s direction so that she can read it. 

There is a purchase receipt, thanking Nicole for selecting her seat on the airplane. 

“You didn’t have to…”

Nicole leans in, whispering so quietly in Waverly’s ear that there is no doubt that the response is only for her:

“There’s no way I’m saying goodbye until I absolutely have to.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The time that remains seems to be given over to the kind of minutiae that feels like a waste. 

They sort out laundry, because it has been weeks and Waverly is running the risk of having absolutely nothing comfortable to travel in. 

They buy food for the plane, and they make sure everything is ready to be packed well in advance. 

“I’m pretty much broke now,” Wynonna points out, “so I can’t afford to mail anything to you.” 

On her penultimate afternoon, Waverly gives up far more time than she is willing to a laborious phone call with her college faculty, who seem to want to fix every detail with her there and then. 

She does her level best to be polite and professional, but with Nicole and Wynonna sat beside her at their favourite little cafe by the hostel, it is hard to care much about professional log-in information or when to collect her staff co-tag that will let her into the building outside of office hours. 

The only saving grace is that Nicole seems snowed under too, answering a myriad of emails from the Academy about her training schedule and tutoring hours. 

Both Waverly and Wynonna help her with the rather risky business of picking out a Calgary apartment with no ability to view it properly, and Nicole jokes that she will blame both of them if it turns out to be grotty and unliveable.

“Well, you can always commute from Purgatory,” Wynonna teases, and Waverly elbows her in the side, hard. She gives a cry of disdain and rubs at her ribs. “Haught likes my jokes.” 

“That might be the only one that bothered me less than your sister,” Nicole jokes, but remains frustratingly enigmatic on the subject of visiting Purgatory, even as perhaps a weekend trip.  

Privately, Waverly considers whether it isn’t time for her to take an apartment of her own in the city, but she cannot quite say if she is ready for everyone else in her life to ask too many questions.

She had been content to stay in Purgatory for the rest of her studies, after all, and there is only really one reason now why she would want to upset that apple cart.

_ Nicole _ . 

Of course, always, it is Nicole. 

“Will you come and visit me one weekend?” Nicole asks later that evening as they both take up their familiar perch on the steps outside the hostel. 

Some nights, as tonight, it has nothing to do with Wynonna kicking Waverly out of the room, and everything to do with enjoying the quiet atmosphere and the cool evening air. 

It is nice to sit in their pyjamas and just talk, even when Nicole surprises her with such questions. 

“Would you want me to?” Waverly asks, struggling to believe that Nicole would even ask.

“You’re always welcome Waves,” Nicole says quietly, looking thoughtful and far-away. “Always.” 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Wynonna and Waverly make the majority of their goodbyes in the privacy of their hostel room. 

Wynonna had never really been one for public displays of emotion, and Waverly cannot really say that she wants an audience during this moment. 

Nicole alone would have been fine, but she of course had made a point of saying she would meet them in the lobby. Once they were in the airport, there would be far too many people around to really make the most it. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Waverly begins as they hold each other tight. She had told herself she would do her best not to cry, but the tears come as soon as Wynonna pulls her into the hug. 

“There isn’t anything babygirl, just that I love you. And seeing you has been the best thing that’s happened to me since I left that damn town.” 

Waverly squeezes her eyes shut and feels the hot trickle of tears down her cheeks. She is probably crying all over Wynonna’s t-shirt. 

“Let’s not leave it this long again, okay?” 

“I promise Waves. Never again. And I’m so sorry I - ”

“Nope,” Waverly says, taking a deep breath. “This summer has been the best one of my life and it’s because of you. So we’re not apologising now. Or ever.” 

“Well, not  _ just _ because of me,” Wynonna points out, but it is clear from her tone that she is just trying to lighten the mood. 

Even so, as much as Waverly hears and appreciates the joke, she does not want to think that she would have had a lesser experience if she had not met Nicole.

“It hasn’t changed anything,” she says, but Wynonna just chuckles - although the sound is damp around the edges - and cuts her off. 

“I know babygirl, but I’m too sad right now, and I’d rather think of happy things. So all I’m saying is that if you and Nicole end up getting married - ”

“ _ Okay _ . Maybe that’s not the kind of talk I want to hear right now.”

“Tempting fate is a myth. Besides, I have eyes and that girl is  _ whipped _ . So I want front row seats at the ceremony  _ and  _ full credit for matchmaking you two.”

“You literally didn’t do anything to get me and Nicole together.”

“Well would you have met her without me?” Wynonna points out grandly.

Waverly pauses. It is a strange thought, not meeting Nicole in one way or another. 

“Probably  _ not _ but…”

“Well there you are then. I’m a regular angel of love.” 

“Okay Wyn, whatever you say.” 

“But in seriousness Waves, I’m glad you’re at least heading off together. It makes me happy, knowing you have someone on the journey back with you. Someone who cares, you know?” 

For the first time, Wynonna draws back from the hug with a serious look on her face. She points a threatening finger at Waverly. 

“But so help me God, if you even so much as think of telling Haught any of that I will text her every embarrassing childhood story I know about you.” 

In spite of the tears still falling, Waverly laughs.

“Even the very fact that you have her number now tells me that you love her.” 

“Don’t you dare.”

“I’m pretty sure she loves you too.” 

Wynonna does not say anything more, but Waverly does not miss the happy little look that settles on her sister’s face as she hears those words.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waverly says goodbye to the room and she silently does the same for every landmark they pass on the bus to the airport. 

She finds that she must bite the inside of her cheeks hard to stop the tears from falling, and both Nicole and Wynonna have the good grace to look straight ahead and pretend that they do not see the way Waverly’s mouth turns down at the corners.

The three of them sit on the backseat, with Waverly in the middle. 

No one speaks for the entire journey. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Long haul, as it turns out, remains the worst.

But it is a little less terrible when she gets to experience it with Nicole. 

Waverly’s heart is still painfully heavy to be leaving Wynonna behind, but Nicole is there to wrap a strong arm around her shoulder when a few more little tears come at the security gate. 

Wynonna even seems vaguely emotional to see Nicole go, mock-lamenting the fact that she will have to find another drinking buddy now. 

“I’d give up on it now,” Nicole says, her eyes a little wet at the corners, “you’re never going to find anyone as cool as us.” 

“No arguments from me,” Wynonna says, even giving her a short hug at the last minute. 

Outside of the emotion of parting, Waverly and Nicole somehow manage to keep their spirits high for their short flight to London. Likely, this has something to do with the nice meal and bottle of wine they share in Athens departure lounge, which makes perusing the expensive little shops far more entertaining. 

Heathrow airport brings an overnight layover, which in turn allows for the first unshared hotel room of the entire trip. 

Waverly still feels the weight of the distance between her and Wynonna, but she is not about to waste this one moment of complete privacy with Nicole. There will be time for real sadness later, once she is home and parted from them both. 

And so, with this in mind, Waverly and Nicole put their time together to good use more or less from the moment the door swings shut behind them. 

Nicole’s mouth is hot against Waverly’s as they stagger towards the bed, already plucking at each other’s clothes. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They emerge from their blissful bubble only long enough to splurge on room service, and they eat it while one British soap or another plays in the background. 

Nicole’s body is warm against the chill of the hotel’s air conditioning, and she lets Waverly borrow a t-shirt for as long as it takes them to eat. 

They snag some of each other’s food and they drink from tiny bottles of beer; they laugh and Waverly tries not to think about how normal it feels, how this really could be  _ it _ . 

And once the food is done they cannot keep their hands from seeking again as they  _ touch _ and _ touch  _ and _ touch _ , making use of every possible space the bedroom and ensuite allow. 

In addition, it is their first opportunity to sleep -  _ sleep _ sleep - beside each other, which is a boon in and of itself, even if they really do not sleep enough. 

There will be time for that when they are apart, as much as there will be time to nap on their flight to Canada. 

They cannot even bring themselves to regret or lament all those hours awake when they are roused by the shrill wail of an alarm early the next morning, feeling as though they have leaden weights attached to their eyelids. 

They pack yesterday’s clothes quickly and quietly, and on their way to the door Nicole stops Waverly with a quiet word. 

“I know how stupid this is gonna seem,” she says, looking a little unsure. “But I don’t think I’m going to get another chance later, and I’ll kick myself if I don’t do it properly now.” 

Her hands find Waverly’s cheeks and guide her closer and, when they kiss, Waverly feels how it is a goodbye and a promise all wrapped into one.

Nicole kisses her deep and slow, almost leisurely as they maintain the illusion that they have all the time in the world for this. 

Waverly feels her breath catch in her throat, almost as though her whole body is choking around the sadness of saying goodbye to people who matter so much. 

She works to tamp the feeling down for now, because Nicole is soft and warm beneath her fingers and she is  _ here _ , for now at least. Waverly kisses her back and tries to pour every feeling from the past couple of months into it, tries to say everything they have not yet had time to say to each other. 

Nicole was right: they will not have another moment like this before they part. This is the only goodbye kiss that they will get. 

They are both breathless and misty-eyed for more than one reason when they break apart, and Waverly can feel an uncomfortable tension between them as they try to move past the weight of this moment. 

In the end, Nicole tries for a little joke.  

“Don’t think I don’t know you stole that shirt,” Nicole says, her eyes crinkling slightly as she laughs. 

Waverly feels herself blush lightly, embarrassed at having been caught out. It had smelt so beautifully of Nicole, and she wants to wear it in bed when she gets home. 

“I - ”

“Give it back to me when you next see me,” Nicole says pointedly, before shrugging. “Or don’t give it back at all. So long as you come for a visit, I don’t care.” 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The duration of the flight is about as unpleasant as Waverly remembers, but Nicole puts the armrest between them up as soon as she can, and she lets Waverly sleep on her shoulder for hours without complaint. 

The rigmarole of passport control and navigating through a busy arrivals lobby is frustrating enough that it mitigates the sadness bubbling in Waverly’s chest for a short while. The parting is inevitable, however, and they must go their separate ways as Nicole heads for the train and Waverly searches her phone for her coach ticket to Purgatory. 

Curtis had offered to drive into the city and pick her up, but she had sensed even a few days ago that she would need the time alone to reflect. 

And, much as she adores her uncle, as she stands and looks sadly at Nicole, she is glad of her decision. 

They part almost wordlessly, with a long, tight hug, a surreptitious kiss and a promise to call one another once they are both home. 

They turn to leave and Waverly is a few paces away, still biting hard at her cheeks to stop her lip from trembling, when she is caught with the sudden urge to turn back for one last look.

When she does, she finds Nicole doing the exact same.

They smile and laugh, both sheepish and absurdly a little shy.

They have not tried to define their relationship, but Waverly knows it is so much more than  _ summer fling _ . She is half-disappointed that Nicole has not asked her to be her girlfriend, but she has given Waverly every hint imaginable that she wants them to keep seeing each other.

They have all possible social media contacts for each other, and Waverly knows she will hear Nicole’s voice again in a few short hours.

There is a sadness about this situation that will likely take days or weeks to fully fade, but there is also a sense of hope bubbling up somewhere between her ribs.

It feels horrible to be without Wynonna and Nicole after a whole summer spent basking in their company, but Waverly tries to look at the positives of what it meant to have been given that time at all.

She has her funding, and Nicole has her career. She has never been closer to Wynonna, and she and Nicole are almost certainly heading  _ somewhere _ together. 

Deep down, Waverly is more excited than sad to see where the journey takes them. 

The parting is hard, but it is only temporary.

There have been so many wonderful adventures already, and there will be so many more to come; of that she is completely sure. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I hope you all liked this fic and how it ended. It was always just intended as a bit of happy light relief for me to write in between writing San Junipero AU, but I thought it turned out decently enough and so posted it. I'll never really tire of writing light-hearted fluff. This world can get pretty gloomy and my favourite entertainment personally is the kind that makes me forget the bad and feel all fuzzy inside instead. So, if I did that even 1% for even one person then that would make me very glad indeed. 
> 
> Thank you all, as ever, for your kind words about my writing. In the next year I have a lot coming up, particularly in the summer, and in addition I want to get back to reading and writing original stuff too. I don't think I'd be able to stay away from Wynonna fic if I wanted to, but I want to say sorry now if I don't post so many involved pieces in the coming months. Who knows, maybe something will consume me as my two bigger AUs did this year. But if I'm not around as much, then in advance I'm sorry. 
> 
> In the meantime, Christmas fic part 2 is due for tomorrow evening, so I'd love it if I heard from you guys there.
> 
> As ever, please drop a comment if you can or chat to me on twitter. I hope you have a lovely festive season!!


End file.
